


A Time-like Curve

by thenerdyindividual



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Slow Build, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 22:18:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15519831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenerdyindividual/pseuds/thenerdyindividual
Summary: When Eggsy is little he sees a painting in a gallery that looks oddly like someone he knows. When he grows up he learns about Kingsman. An agency of time travelers intent on keeping history from being destroyed.





	1. 1996

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Whip Stitch in Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14104239) by [anarchycox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox). 



All the school children lined up outside the National Gallery. Despite the tidy similarity of their uniforms, they stood in a unorganized mass. Parent volunteers tried their best to herd the children into their respective groups but the joy of children getting out of school for a field trip made the task near impossible.  
Tourist season in London is long since over, and there’s an insistent drizzle of rain that trickles down the backs of those children without umbrellas. The weather doesn’t seem to dampen their mood in the slightest, in fact it seems quite the opposite. The courtyard is covered in puddles and some of the children have taken advantage of the bedlam and are jumping in the puddles, soaking their trainers and the hems of their trousers or skirts.  
A whistle sounds, and the children all stop what they're doing and turn to their teacher. She smiles and consults the list on her clipboard.  
“I’m going to read out which parent is going to be leading your group for our museum tour today.” she calls out. Immediately the children reach out for their friends, praying that they get grouped together so that this doesn’t become the most boring field trip known to man.  
“In Mr. Davies’ group we have Charlotte S., Michelle, George, Aiden, and Jamie.” she calls out. There’s a few disappointed murmurs from the two boys being separated from their pack of friends but all three girls clump together and clutch at each other’s arms in excitement.  
The lists go on like that. Generally the children are happy with their placements. No one is separated from too many of their favored friends.  
“And in the last group with Mr. Unwin we have Eggsy, Jamal, Lily, and Frankie,” she finishes, “Now that you know what group you’re in I want you all to have a good day. Remember not to wander off from the gallery your group is visiting, and don’t touch the artwork.”  
The groups separate and Eggsy bounds up to his dad, taking his massive hand in his own. It’s so rare that his dad gets to be home for things like these, that he almost doesn’t care that he’s been paired with his three best friends.  
Lee smiles down at his son, then waves the three other children in close. He crouches down to their level, still smiling, and asks, “Do you lot wanna play a game?”  
There’s a chorus of cheers and Lee leans in conspiratorially, “Whoever finds the weirdest baby in the paintings today gets a piece of chocolate after lunch,” he says, “And if you find a painting that looks like one of your friends then you get a piece too. Are you ready?”  
There’s another cheer, and Lee straightens up. He’s still holding Eggsy’s hand but he knows pretty soon he’ll want to run off to be with his friends and join in the fun. Like father, like son. He leads them all inside, making sure they haven’t peeled off their nametags, then takes them into the first gallery.  
“Go on. Tell me if you need help reading any of the plaques.” Lee instructs and the children run off to look at the paintings they find most interesting.  
Eggsy pulls him along to the first painting he sees.There’s a man getting his face torn off in a gruesome manner by what is supposed to be a dragon but really looks more like a lizard-dog hybrid. It’s disgusting but Eggsy is fascinated, eyes wide as he takes it all in.  
Lee reads the plaque to Eggsy, and Eggsy squints suspiciously at the painting.  
“Why did he think fighting a dragon naked was a good idea?” he asks, little voice deadly serious.  
“Not a clue, little egg. You’d have to ask the artist about that.” Lee answers.  
Eggsy nods, apparently taking the words at face value. Then he drags Lee off to look at another one featuring a bunch of dogs running through a field. Eggsy takes great pleasure in naming every single one of them.  
“Mr. Unwin!” one of the children calls out, and Lee turns to face them.  
“Yeah Lily?” he asks.  
“I found a weird baby!” Lily explains and waves him over, using her entire bony little arm.  
“Really? That was fast.” Lee asks and follows Eggsy as he runs over to see what his friend found.  
“See! In the bathtub thingy.” Lily says and points.  
“That is a weird baby,” Lee agrees and he pulls out a little notepad that is meant for taking notes if the children cause trouble and writes down the gallery number and the name of the painting instead, “I wrote it down so we wouldn’t forget. At the end of the day we’ll take a vote to see who found the weirdest baby. Sound good?”  
Lily nods excitedly and darts off to the next eye catching painting she sees. Eggsy follows after her, already distracted from spending the day with his dad. Lee doesn’t mind. Eggsy is a kid, he should be acting silly with his friends.  
He spots Frankie squinting hard at one of the plaques. Her lips are moving, like she’s trying to sound out a big word. So he wanders over to help.  
“Need me to help you read it?” he asks kindly.  
She nods and points out the artist’s name. It’s no surprise she’s having a tough time. The artist was french, meaning his name has extra letters, none of which work together in english. He tells Francis what it means, and she says thank you very politely. She wanders onto the next painting.  
They spend another five minutes in that gallery before Lee gathers them all up and herds them along to the next one. The day goes on in a similar fashion. The kids have a great time finding all the weird babies, and while none of them have actually found a painting that looks like their friends they have a grand old time pointing at ugly dwarves and gremlins and saying that they could be siblings.  
Right before lunch, Jamal comes running up to where Lee is explaining the myth behind one of the paintings.  
“Eggsy! I found one that looks like you!”  
Eggsy scowls, annoyed that the story was interrupted, “Jamal. You can’t just say that every troll looks like me when I drink milk.”  
“No! I’m serious! Come look!” Jamal responds and starts dragging Eggsy by the hand over to the painting.  
Some of the elder patrons look down their noses at the two little boys causing chaos, but Eggsy and Jamal both ignore them in a way only children are able. Jamal leads them up to a portrait.  
It’s tucked into the corner of the room, not hidden exactly, but certainly dwarfed by the others hanging on the walls. It’s a portrait of a young man. His eyes are half closed, as he stares out a window. He’s bare chested but has airy fabric draped across his lap, and he’s holding a goblet of wine in one hand. An eagle is pictured in the far distance of the sky.  
“Don’t be stupid,” Eggsy grumbles at Jamal, “That don’t look like me.”  
“It does too!” Jamal says stubbornly, “Right Mr. Unwin?”  
“Maybe a little,” Lee says to keep the peace, “It don’t look much like Eggsy right now, but it could look like grown up Eggsy.”  
That answer seems to satisfy both boys. They put aside their differences and agree to split their sandwiches at lunch. Jamal has ham tomato and cheese, and Eggsy has turkey, pickle, and lettuce. It’s a perfect split for them.  
Lee wishes adult problems were that easy to solve. If he could make world leaders split a sandwich then maybe world peace would be achievable.  
“What does the plaque say?” Frankie asks.  
“It’s a painting of Ganymede” Lee answers  
“Whos that?” Frankie asks, clearly excited to take this all in.  
“He was Zeus’s boyfriend for a little while.” Lee explains.  
“Oh! You mean like how George has two mums?” Eggsy clarifies.  
“Exactly.” Lee agrees.  
All the kids accept that. There’s no reason why they shouldn’t.  
“Come on kids, It’s time for lunch.” he says and starts to shuffle them along into the main hall of the museum.  
“But Mr. Unwin,” Lily says, waving her arm to get his attention, “we didn’t get to vote on the weird babies!”  
“You’re right. And there were so many we don’t have time to look over them all. How ‘bout since you all found a weird baby, you all get a little piece of chocolate?”  
“But I’m the only one who found a look alike!” Jamal points out.  
“That’s true. Is it okay with everyone if Jamal gets a little extra piece of chocolate since he found a look alike painting?” Lee asks.  
The children seem to think this is fair. They agree that because Jamal found both, him getting an extra sweet is no big deal.  
They all head outside and set up on the benches in the square for lunch.  
*  
“There’s my boys,” Michelle calls out as the front door opens, “How was the museum?”  
Eggsy comes bounding in, and drops his bag on the floor next to the sofa. He clambers up into a seat at the yellow wood dining table in the kitchen.  
“It was good! Daddy had us play a game where we found weird babies,” Eggsy babbles, “And I saw a picture of a dragon and it was tearing someone’s face off! And Jamal found a picture that he said looked like me but I think he was being silly.”  
“Sounds like it was a good day,” Michelle says absently and leans in when Lee kisses her on the cheek, “What do you want for dinner?”  
“I can go out and pick something up.” Lee offers, resting his chin on Michelle’s shoulder.  
“Why would you do that? I have stuff to cook.” Michelle asks.  
“No offense babe but you burn everything you touch.” Lee teases.  
Michelle swats at his arm, “Shut up. I do not.”  
“To be fair, I ain’t much of a cook either.” Lee says with a grin.  
Michelle relents and nods, “Alright. Why don’t we splurge and get chinese? It ain’t everyday you get to be home to take Eggsy on adventures.”  
“Chinese it is.” Lee agrees and gives Michelle a kiss. He collects his keys from the dining table, and ruffles Eggsy’s hair as he passes by on his way to the front door, “If you get your homework done before dinner we can go outside after and you can show me some of the gymnastics you learned while I was gone.”  
Eggsy hops down from his chair and goes to haul his backpack over to the dining table. Michelle waves Lee out, then goes to pour Eggsy some juice and help him with homework.  
*  
“So what did you learn while I was gone?” Lee asks and sits down on the bench in the courtyard out back of their building.  
“I can do a cartwheel by myself, and a standing backbend.” Eggsy declares proudly.  
“No way.”  
“Yes way!”  
“Show me then little egg.” Lee says.  
Eggsy wanders over to a spot a little ways away from the bench. He stretches his arms high above his head, then chucks himself towards the ground. Somehow he plants his hands, and kicks over in a near perfect cartwheel. Lee makes a point of cheering and clapping. He does the same thing when Eggsy does a standing backbend without cracking his head on the cement.  
They stay out until it gets too dark to see anymore. Then they both head inside for bath time. Eggsy gets cleaned up, changes into his pajamas, then climbs into bed.  
“Can I have a bedtime story?” he asks.  
Lee chooses a book at random off the shelf, then sits down on the bed to read. It doesn’t take Eggsy long at all to fall asleep. The excitement of the day has worn him out.  
SIlently, Lee slips from the room and joins Michelle on the sofa.  
*  
Eggsy is woken by the sound of the phone ringing. The clock on his nightstand reads 12:00 am. No one calls this late. Through his closed door he can hear his dad talking to someone, probably whoever called.  
Eggsy swings out of bed, and pads as quietly as he can across the room. He presses his ear to the door to see if he can hear anything. His dad sounds worried.  
“I just got back. I shouldn’t need to leave yet.” he says.  
Whoever is on the other end of the phone call says something, that makes his dad even more upset than before.  
“I understand that sir. But my son--” he starts but the person cuts him off.  
“No of course not sir but--”  
“I--”  
“Yes sir. I understand sir. I’ll be ready to leave. Just give me time to say goodbye.”  
The receiver clunks back down on the body of the phone, and his dad says something to his mum that is too quiet for Eggsy to hear.  
“How can they ask you to leave so soon? You’ve only been back 48 hours.” his mum says angrily.  
“I know. I tired to explain but they said we were getting re-deployed. An emergency or something. I’m so sorry Michelle.” his dad says.  
Eggsy doesn’t like the way they’re talking so he opens his door. It startles his parents and his mum offers Eggsy the fakest smile he’s ever seen. It does nothing to soothe him.  
“Are you going again?” he asks his dad.  
“Yeah little egg. I’m sorry,” his dad says and kneels down in front of him, “My bosses said I gotta go. They need me.”  
“Why can’t mummy write you a sick note? That’s what she does when I can’t go to school.” he suggests. It seems like an obvious solution to him.  
His dad chuckles and pulls him in for a tight hug, “It don’t work like that when you’re all grown up.”  
“Will you get to come to my gymnastics show?” Eggsy asks.  
“I don’t think so. Have mum tape it though alright? I’ll be back before you know it, and then we’ll watch it together.”  
“Promise?”  
“Promise,” his dad swears and kisses his head, “I’m going now but I love you so much.”  
“I love you too.”  
His dad stands up and kisses his mum and says he loves her too. He gives them each one last squeeze then heads out the door. The house is too quiet now. Late night shows are still playing softly on the tv but they’re almost drowned out by the silence left behind by his dad leaving again.  
“Come on sweetie. You can sleep with mummy tonight.” his mum says and takes his hand.  
He climbs into the big bed with its fancy sheets, and snuggles up. His mum climbs in next to him and they both try to sleep.  
Eggsy wakes up the next morning early to wait for his dad. And he waits. And waits. And waits. And waits…  
There’s a knock on the door, and Eggsy glances up form the snow globe he’s playing with when his mum goes to open the door. There’s a man there. He has dark hair and glasses. He kind of reminds Eggsy of a principal on tv shows.  
“Are you Mrs. Unwin?” the not principal asks.  
His mum frowns and nods, “That’s me.”  
“I have news regarding your husband.” the not principal says.  
His mum’s face creases with worry, and she stands aside to let the not principal through.  
“I think the sofa might be the best place to hear this.” the not principal offers.  
His mum takes him over to the sofa and they sit down.  
“Is everything alright? Did something happen?” his mum asks, voice tight.  
It strikes Eggsy how wrong that look is. Grown ups aren’t supposed to worry about anything. They’re supposed to have all the answers, especially mummies and daddies.  
“Your husband was on a routine mission with his squad but something went wrong,” the not principal answers, “We lost all contact with the squad. Their signals went dead and we haven’t been able to recover it or any of the squad members.”  
His mum makes a funny choking sound and covers her mouth. Eggsy doesn’t like that.  
“I’m so sorry your husband’s death cannot be publicly celebrated. Everything is cloaked in hundreds of layers of classification,” the not principal says and fishes something out of his pocket, “In return I would like to offer you... Let's call it a favor. If ever you are in need of help, just call the number on the back. Tell the operator, Oxfords not Brogues and I’ll know it’s you.”  
His mum smacks the not principal’s hand away with another one of those choking noises, “I don’t want a favour! I want my husband back!”  
The not principal looks almost as sad as his mum. He stands up from the sofa, and walks towards the door. Eggsy thinks he’ll just keep on walking and leave, but instead he stops and crouches down to Eggsy’s height.  
“Hello. What’s your name?” he asks kindly.  
“Eggsy.” Eggsy answers.  
“Nice to meet you Eggsy,” the not principal says with a smile, “Can I see that?” he gestures to the snowglobe.  
Eggsy passes it over and the man gives it a few shakes, then sets it down on the floor. He holds out the thing he was offering Eggsy’s mum. It’s a pink and gold medal. On the back are a bunch of lines etched into the circular shape. It reminds Eggsy of the analogue clock he’s been learning to read in class.  
“Take care of this for me,” the not principal instructs, “And take care of your mum too.”  
The not principal offers him one last smile, the straightens up. He opens the door, and leaves just as mysteriously as he arrived.  
Eggsy gets up and crawls into his mum’s lap. He has a sinking feeling that he’s never going to see his dad again.


	2. 2015

Daisy is howling bloody murder, and no one is doing anything to stop it. Eggsy isn’t sure when it became his responsibility to care for her. He’s not the father for fucks sake. He can’t begrudge the little one for asking what for what she needs but he never signed up to be a dad. No matter how much he might love the little one.  
“Eggsy!” his mum calls and Eggsy has to clench his teeth to keep from rolling his eyes. He opens his bedroom door and sags against the door frame.  
“Yeah?” he grunts.  
“Got any rizzla babe?” his mum asks cheerfully as if Daisy isn’t crying two feet away.  
“Nah.” he answers.  
Dean smirks at him, teeth as gross as ever, and manspreads a little bit more on the sofa, “Then why don’t you go get her some?”  
Eggsy glances at Dean’s crony sitting in the corner, then glances back to his mum, “Three’s a crowd innit? Why don’t Dean’s poodle go?”  
Dean is apparently in a good mood today because he actually chuckles at Eggsy’s rudeness, then waves a wad of cash at him, “Tell you what. You get the rizzlas and get yourself some sweets. While you’re gone I’ll show your mum that three can be good company.”  
Eggsy pretends like he didn’t just throw up in his mouth, takes the cash, and heads out. He pauses at Daisy’s playpen though and gives her back her pacifier. She calms almost instantly.  
*  
When he steals the car, he almost wishes Jamal and Ryan weren’t with him. If they weren’t he might have driven it right off a bridge into the Thames. He can’t hurt his friends like that though. So he contents himself with feeling more alive than he has in ages.  
The thrill of adrenaline sparks through his fingertips, it sharpens his decision making. He flies through the streets of London without a care. It only comes crashing down when that stupid fucking fox gets in the way. Eggsy has always had a soft spot for cute fuzzy things.  
When he gets hauled off to the police station, he thinks maybe jail won’t be so bad. It would get him away from Dean after all. And that sounds like a fucking paradise if Eggsy is honest.  
What makes him call the number on the back is the thought of Daisy. He can’t think of leaving her behind. She deserves better than a brother whos in jail.  
He could swear that he’s screwed the second the operator on the line hangs up. He’s going to rot in jail and he didn’t even have the sense to call a lawyer.  
But then the door swings open. The officer that spent the last several hours trying to get him to talk, is standing there. His face is crumpled in annoyance. He waves Eggsy out with a grunted, “You’re free to go.”  
Eggys doesn’t hesitate. He bolts to the front desk and collects his phone. Then he hurries outside before anyone can change their mind and haul him back inside.  
The sunlight is blinding after being held in the interrogation room. It’s why he misses the man when he heads down the steps.  
“Eggsy?” the man calls out.  
Eggsy stops on the steps and turns to see who is calling him, “Who are you?”  
“The man who got you released.” the man says easily, still leaning against the wall casual as you please.  
“That ain’t an answer.” Eggsy points out.  
“My name is Harry Hart. I gave you that medal.”  
*  
Eggsy can tell Harry is hiding something. Sure all the information about his dad’s disappearance is classified, but there’s something else. The face he makes when Eggsy says army, as if the army isn’t the right answer but he’s not going to correct Eggsy’s assumption.  
Then Poodle makes that stupid rentboy comment, and Eggsy understands that there’s more to Harry than he lets on. It’s like time has slowed and sped up at the same time. He lays Dean’s boys out one by one with relative ease. He barely breaks a sweat.  
When he threatens Eggsy with his watch, Eggsy is less worried about dying, and more worried about never getting to the bottom of this story.  
He spends the walk home coming up with wilder and wilder theories about what Harry actually does for a living. They range from MMA trainer all the way to MI6 agent. That one fits the best but Eggsy still doesn’t think it’s quite right. For one thing his dad was never in MI6. If Harry knew him so well, it means they had to have worked side by side. No. Harry isn’t MI6. But Eggsy gets the feeling that he isn’t far off.  
His head is still in the clouds so he is totally unprepared when Dean flies into a rafe upon seeing him. His face stings something awful from the slap. Then there’s a giant knife at his throat and, between begging and pleading with the universe for his life, he thinks it’s kind of funny that he escaped the clutches of jail only to be slaughtered by his stepfather in their ratty kitchen. The blood is going to be impossible to get out of the grout.  
Harry’s voice sounds from a speaker, and Eggsy blindly follows the instructions he’s given. He would have taken advantage of Dean’s distraction anyway but now he has a direction to run.  
The kingsman shop is beautiful. There are fancy suits in the window, and they probably cost nearly as much as a car. The inside is all smooth dark wood, and overstuffed leather chairs.  
Harry is sitting on one of the sofas, drinking some amber drink out of a crystal glass.  
“So what’s the deal?” Eggsy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.  
“What do you mean?” Harry asks.  
“I wanna know what’s going on. The fight at the pub, the weird tech that let you yell at Dean. None of that is normal.” Eggsy says.  
Harry stands up from the sofa, unfolding his ridiculously long legs. He drains the end of his drink then motions for Eggsy to follow him, saying, “Come with me.”  
They enter a dressing room and Harry turns Eggsy to face the mirror.  
“What do you see?” he asks, like this is a momentous occasion.  
“Someone who wants to know what the fuck is going on.” Eggsy responds.  
“I see a young man who is loyal, and who can do as he’s told. Who has massive potential. Do you see where I’m headed with this?” Harry asks.  
Eggsy shakes his head.  
“Very well. Point is, the lack of a silver spoon has set you on certain path but you needn’t stay on it. I’m offering you a position as a Kingsman agent.”  
“What like a spy?” Eggsy asks, a thrill shooting through his belly.  
“No. A time traveler.” Harry responds.  
“Listen you don’t gotta be sarcastic. I get it. Dumb question.” Eggsy grumbles.  
“I assure I was quite serious.” Harry says.  
“What?” Eggsy asks.  
“Kingsman Agents travel through time. Doing their utmost to keep the order of our present intact.” Harry explains.  
“Wait, you ain’t joking?” Eggsy stares at Harry in shock, “Time travel? Bull fucking shit!”  
“Eggsy, why would I make that up?” Harry asks, and leans forward to place his hand on the mirror. There’s a rumble and then the floor of the dressing room starts to sink into the ground.  
“Because you’re taking me to a weird freaky sex trafficking ring and I’m going to be tied up and used until I die, and a funny lie will distract me?” Eggsy guesses.  
“Kingsman was established just after World War One,” Harry explains, “The ever lovely Marie Curie discovered a tear in the fabric of spacetime while studying radiation. She established a group to study it, learn what could be done with such a thing. Thus Kingsman was founded. You didn’t hear this from me, but the radiation that killed her didn’t come from the polonium she discovered with her husband. It came from that tear.”  
“This is mental.” Eggsy breathes.  
“I’ve met the Marquis de Sade you know, a very smelly man. Though that is one thing you will have to get used to with time travel, the smells are.. Unique. Honestly a third of your training is just about learning not to flinch at the smells of shit and unwashed bodies.” Harry sighed “Gawain gets the viking assignments. Do you know how much they bathed? Wonderful people.”  
“Are you delusional?” Eggsy asks “I’m going to die aren’t I?”  
“Perhaps. But it will be better than what you were facing.” Harry counters and they climb aboard the train.  
“Why do you need to go back in time anyway?” Eggsy asks.  
“Unfortunately, members of Curie’s team wanted to use the tear to manipulate time to their advantage. There isn’t an all powerful other organization that we’re aware of but the occasional person still slips through in the other tears in the world.”  
Soon enough Eggsy is handed over to Merlin.  
“Galahad, late again,” Merlin says.  
Harry gives him a small smile. “Well, time waits for no man.”  
Merlin let out an unimpressed noise, and purses his lips slightly.  
If anyone is going to be responsible for handling the hostages, it’s this man. He’s tall, and serious, and frankly scary as shit. Eggsy glances between Merlin and Harry nervously, “This the guy that going to drug me and tie me up and sell me?”  
Instead of the conk on his head he was half expecting, Merlin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath like he’s reaching for patience he doesn’t have.  
“Lovely, Galahad.” he snarks.  
“He thinks we’re sex traffickers.” Harry explains.  
“Why do ye insist on making my job harder?” he asks.  
“Because it’s fun.” Harry answers with a shit eating grin.  
“Go on with you,” Merlin said and points Eggsy to the room.  
Eggsy pulls open the door, and steps inside. The room remind him of the barracks he slept in during basic. There are cots lined up along the walls on both sides of the room. There are a bunch of very posh people milling about. Probably not a sex trafficking ring then. He has a moment of panic, wondering if he made the wrong decision to come with Harry. Anything has to be better than Dean and a cleaver though.  
The door swings open again and admits Merlin into the room.  
“Fall in,” Merlin says and Eggsy falls in with the others. “I am Merlin, ye are about to embark on the most dangerous job interview of your lives. Can anyone tell me what this is?” He held up an item. Someone said body bag. “Good,” Merlin agrees. “Ye will write your name, blood type, and next of kin on it and then I will throw it out.” Merlin smiles a little at their confusion. “Because if ye die in a training exercise here, ye don’t get put in a body bag and sent home to your mama. You will just remain where you were forever and maybe one day an anthropologist will write a paper about the man with confusing underwear for the time frame.  
“There is also the possibility that ye will be stuck in the past and be unable to return home. In which case ye will live to death. If ye are thinking ‘But Merlin. That sounds like the Weeping Angels from Doctor Who’, ye would be correct.”  
Eggsy glances around the room, trying to read the mood. Everyone is nodding seriously. Like the thought of travelling through time is not the most insane thing they’ve ever come into contact with.  
Before Eggsy can stop himself, he blurts out, “Wait, this if for fucking real? Time travel?”  
Someone scoffs and Eggsy bets it’s that snotty fucker who eyed him like something smelly when he walked in.  
“Aye, very real,” Merlin says and stares each recruit down as he says, “Now that ye know what’s at stake, does anyone want to leave?”  
When no one does, he nods approvingly, “Your lessons begin tomorrow. Have a good evening.” Then he turns on his heel and walks out.  
Eggsy sinks down on the nearest bed and stares blankly at the body bag he was handed. He can’t believe he’s about to time travel to save the world. The one young woman in the group takes the bed next to him.  
“I’m Roxy.” she introduces herself and holds out her hand.  
“Eggsy.” he responds and shakes her hand. There’s something about the sparkle in her eye that tells Eggsy they’re going to be good friends.  
*  
“It is 1925. Ye and Roxy have just been caught by a security guard while trying to enter a movie lot,” Merlin says, “Adjust. Try to get free with the least historical damage possible.”  
“Hello. I’m Jay Gatsby and this is my wife Daisy--” Eggsy starts.  
He’s cut off by a groan from Merlin. Roxy has to bite her lip to keep from cracking up at the exasperation in Merlin’s groan. She still snorts a little.  
“For fuck’s sake Eggsy. I told ye, ye can’t use pop culture references from the era you’re visiting. Great Gatsby came out April 10 1925. Ye could have your cover blown by anyone who happened to read it.” Merlin says.  
“Sorry mate. Try again?” Eggsy asks.  
“It is 1912. You’re trying to get access to an office of university dean.” Merlin says.  
“Excuse me sir, I’m Edward Brittain and this is my sister Vera. We were looking for the dean’s office. We were hoping to talk to him about application requirements.” Eggsy says, rounding out his vowels as much as possible.  
Merlin still groans a little at the reference but he nods, “I’ll allow it.”  
*  
“How many of ye can tell me what’s wrong with this outfit?” Merlin asks.  
Roxy’s hand rockets into the sky and Merlin calls on her, “The bra is wrong for the time period. If it is 1937 the bras would not have underwire. Instead they would have been sewn like cones.”  
“Very good Roxy,” Merlin says approvingly, and flips to the next slide.  
“The shirt should not be polycotton,” Eggsy answers, “Polyester wasn't invented until the ‘50s”  
“Good. Very good. Moving on.” Merlin click over to the next slide.  
“I don’t see why we need to know this,” Charlie grumbles, “Kingsman has tailors that outfit us.”  
“I am well aware considering that I am one of them,” Merlin says severely, “If nothing else this will help ye spot fellow time travelers. Or at least poor ones. Ye need to be aware of everything when ye go back,” he turns back to the powerpoint he created and pauses, then he turns back “If ye would be so kind as to steal clothes and bring them home for the outfitting department we would all be most grateful.”  
*  
“Congratulations Eggsy, Roxy. As tradition allows, ye now have 24 hours to spend with your mentors.” Merlin announces.  
*  
Harry’s house is huge. Two bathrooms, a proper dining room separate from the kitchen, a guest room, and an office. Eggsy is overwhelmed. He’s never been in a home this nice. The only thing that keeps him from standing stock still in the foyer is the massive collection of butterflies hung on the walls. He has to investigate.  
Eventually he finds his way into Harry’s office.  
“I’ve got a question about this whole time travel thing.” he announces, inspecting the newspaper clippings on the walls.  
“And what question is that?” Harry asks mildly.  
“The whole Kingsman shtick is that we go back in time to prevent history being altered right?” Eggsy asks, seeking confirmation.  
“Yes. Why?” Harry asks.  
Eggsy drops into the seat in the corner and slumps down slightly, “How do we know we ain’t the ones changing history? How do we know that the present we’re protecting is the right one? What if it was really supposed to go another way and we fucked it up?”  
Harry stares at him, clearly surprised, “We just have to trust that though the present isn’t perfect, it’s ours.”  
“Do people really try to change history,” Eggsy asks, “Or do they just do shit like go back in time to tell their mum to invest in IBM? Because I don’t see how that changes much.”  
“Maybe it wouldn’t change a thing. Or maybe it would accelerate the development of computers beyond our wildest imagination because of the influx of cash. It could lead to an information monopoly where the investors control all because they’re now all so rich,” Harry says, “That’s the thing Eggsy. All the small changes add up.”  
*  
“We’ve decided, Eggsy, to give you the opportunity to change something in your past,” Arthur says, gesturing to the gate behind him, “The window is open for the right time. All you have to do is step through and you’ll see your father again. You can convince him not to go on that last training mission.”  
Eggsy takes a few hesitant steps in the direction of the portal. Something in the back of his head is telling him not to go through with it. But the overwhelming part of him says to go for it. That he doesn’t need to convince him not to go, he could just say goodbye. Wouldn’t that be nice?  
He takes a few more steps towards the shimmery blue stuff suspended in the gate. He’s just going to say goodbye. That’s all.  
Before he can step through, Arthur catches him by the elbow and yanks him backwards away from the gate.  
“Ow!” Eggsy yells indignantly, “What was that for?”  
Arthur is smirking at him, “I knew you were too soft for this job. Pack your things. You’re going home.”  
“This was a test?” Eggsy asks indignantly.  
“You and Roxy were both offered a choice,” Arthur sneers, “She chose not to take it. At least the girl’s got balls.”  
*  
“You threw your opportunity away over a fucking chance you might save your father?” Harry shouts.  
“Like you wouldn’t do the same thing! Why didn’t you save him?! You were there!” Eggsy shouts back.  
“Can’t you see that everything I’ve done has been about trying to repay him?” Harry asks coldly. His glasses beep, and after a short conversation with Merlin, he turns back to Eggsy with a frown, “I have to go. You stay right here. I’ll sort this mess when I get back.”  
*  
“We lost his signal Arthur. Harry’s gone.” Eggsy says softly.  
“Galahad is lost to us,” Arthur agrees, “Hence we have just drank a toast to him.”  
Eggsy somehow isn’t surprised when Chester tries to poison him.  
What does surprise him is the alert that comes to Chester’s phone informing him that the gate will be opened in twenty minutes. All agents were supposed to be grounded now that they lost Harry’s signal. Whoever is opening that gate, is unauthorized.  
He barely has time to get Merlin and Roxy. A man has opened the gate using Chester’s credentials. There’s no time to change into proper clothes. Eggsy and Roxy just barrel through the gate, half cocked. Merlin has to wait in 2015 to monitor the gate and bring them home.  
1972 is hell.  
The man whips around a corner and Roxy shouts, “There!” while pointing in his direction.  
They give chase. The man, whoever he is, evades them for several blocks. It’s only sheer dumb luck that they manage to catch him against a dead end.  
They don’t get away without injury though. Roxy is bleeding from a shoulder wound, and Eggsy is pretty sure he has a concussion.  
“Is it just me,” Eggsy starts, “Or is that that Valentine bloke from tv?”  
“I think you’re right.” Roxy says.  
He and Roxy activate their signet rings, and Merlin opens the portal to bring them home.  
*  
“The real question is,” Merlin says, “Is why Chester let him go back. Nothing of huge historical significance happened in 1972.”  
“What if he’s planting people in time?” Roxy asks.  
“What? Like sleeper agents?” Eggsy clarifies  
“Think about it. They could change history and we would never know because our memories would change too.” she says, turning to Merlin for support.  
Merlin stares at her for a moment, then nods, “I suppose we should start looking at the travel records.”


	3. 1876

“Arthur sent me.” Eggsy calls defensively.  
Instantly every head in the outfitting department swivels to face him. They’re all glaring at him suspiciously.  
Merlin straightens up from the cutting table and crosses his arms, “Where is he sending you and when?”  
Eggsy steels himself for a Merlin meltdown, “1876. Three days.”  
Merlin grinds his teeth slightly and narrows his eyes at Eggsy, “I haven’t fit ye for anything other than the 1920s and later.”  
“I know mate. I’m sorry. But I’m roughly the same size as Owain right? I’m just a little shorter. Maybe you could fit one of his to me?” Eggsy suggests.  
He feels bad for Merlin. They’ve spent the last two years going on almost nonstop back to back missions, and after half the veteran agents were exposed in the Chester-Valentine scandal he and his team has been swamped with new outfit requests for traveling. They were able to salvage some but the older agents all had gotten a bit fat in their old age, so new agents required all new wardrobes. The fact that they also had to make Roxy’s entire wardrobe from scratch because Kingsman never had a woman before isn’t helping.  
On top of it all the new Arthur seems to think he can just wave a magic wand and make the clothes materialize. The sound of sewing machines echoes down the halls 24 hours a day to keep up with the demand.  
“Try one on. Ask Pilar if she will help ye find one of the old agents that was close enough in size that we can tailor.” Merlin grumbles.  
“Thanks Merlin. You’re the best.” Eggsy says but his stomach clenches uncomfortably at the annoyance in Merlin’s voice.  
“You’re just lucky I can’t kill ye.” Merlin responds and turns back to whatever he was doing before.  
Eggsy makes a mental note to do something nice for the team when he gets back. He’s been trying to bake latey. Maybe some muffins will soften them up.  
He spots Pilar hunched over what resembles a jacket. Her eyes are rubbed red, and she’s clutching a seam ripper like her life depends on it. Eggsy makes sure to stand back as far as he can from her table before trying to get her attention.  
“Hey Pilar?” he calls softly.  
Her head shoots up from the tangle of threads she’s picking at, and she glares at Eggsy. She can be downright terrifying when she wants to be.  
“What do you need?” she asks, and her voice is so rough disuse that she sounds like some sort of gremlin.  
“Arthur’s sending me to 1876. Merlin said you might know of an old agent who’s suit you can tailor to fit,” Eggsy explains and then tries to butter her up a bit so she doesn’t kill him, “because you know the catalogues the best.”  
Pilar takes a deep breath, then sets down the seam ripper, and the jacket she’s laboring over. She gestures for Eggsy to follow her. She leads him past Liz’s table and Eggsy gives her a little wave. She ignores him but Eggsy can’t blame her. It looks like she’s working on something for Roxy. The details are going to be far more intricate than on any men’s clothes.  
“I think the old Kay was close to your size when he was younger. I’m not sure he was fitted for gilded age though. Let’s look.” she says and unlocks one of the closets that houses the outfits, categorized by agent.  
They walk in and Pilar starts to rattle off the time periods labeled on the racks. She lets out a cheer of joy when she reads 1870s. She digs into the rack of clothes, searching for anything that might be close to Eggsy’s size. She manages to cobble something together that isn’t too shabby, then thrusts the outfit at him.  
“Go change into these. They’re middle class so it shouldn’t require a valet, meaning you can dress yourself.” she instructs.  
“Awesome. You got a hat for it?” he asks.  
“Eggsy Lee Unwin, don’t you call my accessorizing skills into question. Go change into those and I will be along to see how it looks.” Pilar says, pointing her finger stiff armed towards the door.  
“Right. Sorry Pilar.” Eggsy apologizes, sounding as contrite as he can. He never wants to be the pain in the ass agent.  
She nods sharply, “As you should be. Now, ve rapido. Go go.”  
Eggsy takes the bundle of clothes and hurries out of the closet, leaving Pilar to accessorize. He finds the dressing room and strips out of his tee shirt and trackies. He steps into the trousers, wiggling them up over his hips. Pilar is definitely going to need to take in the waist a bit but the length is good. The shirt is slid on next. It’s a bit loose maybe but nothing too bad. The waistcoat fits perfectly but the coat is a bit long.  
He steps out of the dressing room and Pilar is waiting for him. She considers him for a second, then has him step up on the pedestal. She sets to work pinning the hem of the coat, shortening the length. She also takes a stab at the shirt and the waist of the trousers.  
“Alright. You’re finished. I can get this tailoring done by tuesday evening if I hurry.” she says.  
Eggsy hops down from the pedestal and gives Pilar a kiss on the cheek, “You’re the best.”  
“And you are a big flirt.” Pilar says but she still gives him a small smile.  
As Eggsy walks back out of the storage closets, he runs into Merlin.  
“All good?” he asks.  
“All good. Pilar found a suit that fits.” Eggsy responds and Merlin sighs in relief.  
“Are you manning the gate this time or am I stuck with an under-merlin?” Eggsy asks.  
“If I can get away, I’ll be the one handling ye. It depends on whether Arthur lets me.” Merlin answers.  
“I know it’s hard heading tech and outfitting but the last minion I got was a creep.”  
“I said I’d do my best. I can't just up and leave when ye need me. I'll be there for debriefing.” Merlin snaps.  
“Right sorry.” Eggsy says and scuttles out of the room.  
*  
Eggsy buttons the last button on his coat and glances at Merlin, “So where am I going?”  
“March 7th, 1876. Brantford, Ontario Canada.” Merlin answers and passes Eggsy his top hat.  
“What happened on March 7th, 1876 in Brantford, Ontario Canada?”  
“Merlin, if you would,” Arthur asks and Merlin sends a file to the mirror screen, “Three days later, Alexander Graham Bell files the patent for the telephone.” Arthur explains  
“So what? Are they gonna kill Alexander Graham Bell?” Eggsy asks.  
“That is the theory we’re operating on.”  
“I say we let them.” Eggsy says, straightening his sleeves.  
“Excuse me?” Merlin shrieks.  
“What? He was a supporter of the eugenics movement,” Eggsy defends himself, “Granted he weren’t trying to sterilize people but still. He’s kind of awful ain’t he? Besides, what could anyone have to gain by killing him?”  
“They could file their own patent, or create a telephone monopoly where everyone is forced to use their tech?” Merlin suggests,.  
Eggsy sighs and attaches the pocket watch to his waistcoat, “I wish the bad guys weren’t so fucking clever.”  
“As do we all,” Arthur agrees and Merlin swipes over to a blurry photo, “We still don't have a clear photograph of any of Chester King’s accomplases. But archived security footage shows a balding man in his late forties.”  
Merlin passes him a print out of the photo, and Eggsy folds it up and slips it into his pocket.  
“So basically any average bloke who could pop out in 1876 without attracting attention.” Eggsy says dully.  
“Unfortunately.” Arthur sighs.  
“Any idea how many more of these we’re gonna have to go on?” Eggsy asks  
“We’ve been analyzing all the trips that were taken after Chester came into power. It’s hard to tell, but it seems he was only doing this for the last few years. There was a correlation between an increase in his card being used to activate the gate, and sudden influxes of cash labeled shit like bonuses. It could take another year.” Merlin says  
“Fuck. He left a big ass mess.” Eggsy grumbles.  
“Ye are preaching to the choir lad. Now we better get ye going. The window closes at ten tonight.”  
Eggsy nods, and Merlin leads the way out into the hallway. They walk down to the hangar and pause at the gate.  
Merlin heads over to the computer, punches in whatever equation is needed to activate the gate. It whirrs to life. The familiar shimmering blue of space time fills the gate.  
“Thanks for this Merlin.” Eggsy says softly.  
“Thanks for what?” Merlin asks.  
“Working the gate for me. I know you're busy.”  
Merlin glances up from the computer and gives Eggsy a sharp nod.  
Eggsy takes a deep breath and steps through. The familiar tingling sensation fills Eggsy’s mouth and he emerges on the other side with a gasp. He chokes for a second on the fumes from the factories. He’s never going to get used this sensation no matter how many times he goes back.  
He looks around, trying to get a grip on his surroundings. He's in an alley, which is good. It means no one saw him arrive.  
He brushes the dust off his suit. Then he steps out on to the main road.  
He starts formulating his plan. One option is to stake out the patent office. If the plan really is to file their own patent, chances are the bloke would head there. The other option is try to track down Alexander Graham Bell. It's easier to change history when your rival is dead.  
Eggsy goes with option number two. The goal should be to keep Alexander Graham Bell alive long enough to file his patent. If possible, he should file his patent a few days early. It doesn't keep exactly with the timeline as is, but Eggsy is sure it's close enough.  
Step one. Locate Graham Bell.  
Eggsy glances up and down the street. It's a high street. It's a Tuesday afternoon so most people are working. Servants haven't been released for the evening, the upper classes are just finishing luncheon, factory workers won't be off for hours  
Eggsy spots the local pub. An old brick cottage-looking structure. The wooden sign creaks gently in the wind.  
He decides to start there. Even eccentric scientists need to take breaks. Someone has to know where Graham Bell lives.  
He pushes open the door to the pub and the bell tinkles above his head. The bartender looks up from the table he's scrubbing down and frowns at Eggsy suspiciously. His bushy eyebrows turn his craggy face into a work of shadow and fuzz.  
“We’re closed.” he announces  
“I don't need to order anything,” Eggsy assures him and removes his hat as expected, “I just need some directions.”  
The bartender straightens up and crosses his arms, “What can I do for you?”  
“I'm looking for a Mr. Graham Bell.” Eggsy answers.  
“Can I ask who's asking?”  
“My name is Jack Harper,” Eggsy lies through his teeth, “I was in university a few years behind Mr. Graham Bell in University. I heard he was working on a new telegraph and I was hoping to offer my help.”  
The bartender stares him down for a bit but Eggsy doesn't waver. He's stared down Merlin a hundred times when relaying outfitting requests from Arthur. This bartender doesn't ruffle his feathers.  
“He's not too far. Up this road a ways. Take a right at the big hedge, and a left at the end of that road.” The bartender finally relents.  
“Thank you Mr..?”  
“Brannigan.” The bartender answers.  
“Thank you Mr. Brannigan.” Eggsy says and nods.  
He exits the bar, and puts his hat back on. He spots a hedge near the end of the high street and starts the walk to follow the bartender's instructions. He has a minute to take in how lovely everything is. There’s so much green everywhere. It's the best part of time travel really, to see how green and wild things are even in settled areas.  
He takes a right at the hedge and walks up a residential road. Little cottages are nestled close together, painted white and blue and yellow. Two families probably share that tiny home but it does nothing to spoil the prettiness.  
He takes a left at the end of the road. There's a house at the end of a short driveway.  
Eggsy takes a deep breath and runs over what he's going to say in his head.  
He walks up the steps to the front stoop and knocks. The front door unlocks and swings open.  
An older woman stands there, hair pulled back in a tidy bun. She looks vaguely familiar to Eggsy.  
“Hello ma'am. I'm looking for Mr. Graham Bell,” Eggsy says and frantically back tracks through the info in the file he was give. To remember if Graham Bell’s father is still alive, “... the younger.”  
She squints at him, then gestures to her ear.  
“I’m looking for Mr. Graham Bell!” Eggsy says louder.  
She nods and says haltingly, “I am his mother. How can I help you?”  
That explains why she looked vaguely familiar. She resembles her son quite a bit  
“I was a few years behind him in university. I've run some experiments recently and I believe the results will help with what he's trying to accomplish.” Eggsy replies, keeping his reply as close to the one he told the bartender. This time his voice is loud enough for her to hear right away.  
Mrs. Bell steps aside and lets him inside, “Please wait here. I will go get my son.” she says in that same halting way.  
She disappears into the house, and Eggsy waits in the foyer. He takes stock of the entrances, and windows. The front door is solid wood, and the windows are too small for anyone to crawl through. If it comes to it, he can defend the Bell family here. He hopes that it won’t come to that.  
Footsteps and voices echo down the hall, and Mrs. Bell emerges with her son. Alexander looks exactly like the blurry picture they have of him as a young man. His beard is thick but trimmed neatly (which will change when he gets older), his eyes are large and doe-like, his nose is broad, and everything is topped off with the 1876 equivalent of a pomp haircut.  
Eggsy smiles at him, inviting him to be comfortable. Graham Bell’s face relaxes slightly, and he approaches Eggsy.  
“My mother said you went to university with me?” he clarifies.  
“Not exactly. I would have just entered my studies when you left,” Eggsy explains and holds his hand out, “Jack Harper.”  
Graham Bell shakes his hand and offers him a courteous smile, “I see. While I am flattered by your offer of help, I am afraid the invention is complete. I am just completing a patent application,” he explains and starts herding Eggsy to the door, “I apologize for the wasted trip.”  
“Wait,” Eggsy says quickly and drops his voice low enough so Mrs. Bell can’t hear, “I actually work for Mr. Sanders and Mr.Hubbard”  
That gives Graham Bell some pause. Eggsy was taking a gamble mentioning the investors. There’s no record of whether Graham Bell kept his process public or not. Eggsy’s gamble pays off though. Graham Bell stops the awkward shuffle to the door. Instead he takes a step back.  
“My office is this way.” he reveals and leads Eggsy down a hallway to the left. The office is tidier than Eggsy expected. There’s a pile of paperwork on the desk but it is stacked neatly. Books all have their places on his shelves. No half finished gadgets are lying about.  
When the office door is closed behind them, Graham Bell turns to face Eggsy, obviously waiting for an explanation.  
“Your investors have gotten wind of someone working on a similar invention. They believe this person is going to try to file their patent first,” Eggsy explains quickly, “They want to take every precaution to make sure your patent arrives safely. If possible they want you to file the patent today.”  
Graham Bell scoffs and sits in the chair on the opposite side of the heavy wooden desk, “I don’t see how that could be possible.”  
“I am just a messenger,” Eggsy says and leans forward, placing his hands on the edge of the desk, “I do agree with them though. You stand to lose credibility if someone files first, and Mr. Sanders, and Mr. Hubbard stand to lose a good deal of money.”  
They stare each other down. Graham Bell is digging his heels in. Eggsy was prepared for that considering the only reason Graham Bell got funding was because he was too stubborn to work on something else. Eggsy raises his eyebrows, and cocks his head. He can do this as long as Graham Bell can.  
Finally Graham Bell leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “The patent office is only open until five o’clock.”  
“Then you will have to fill out the paperwork quickly won’t you?” Eggsy says.  
“If you would be so kind as to leave my office then Mr. Harper?” Graham Bell asks.  
“Of course.” Eggsy agrees and slips from the room, closing the door behind him.  
*  
Eggsy surreptitiously brushes his coat pocket again. His gun is where he left it, but something about escorting Graham Bell from the train makes him check again. This mission has been too easy. He was expecting one of Chester and Valentine's’s organization to have showed up by now. It makes his skin crawl. He’s almost always run into another traveler in the first five minutes.  
He wants to be aware of where his gun is.  
If Graham Bell notices how tense Eggsy is, he doesn’t say. All his paperwork and notes are tucked in a neat leather folder.  
They approach the patent office, and Eggsy escorts Graham Bell inside. Graham Bell places his folder on the clerk’s desk, and the clerk stands to find the paperwork for filing.  
A movement in the corner of his eye, catches Eggsy’s attention. He turns his head to look and watches as a man disappears around the corner of the building next door.  
“Excuse me.” he murmurs to Graham Bell, and steps out on the sidewalk.  
He fishes the folded photo out of his pocket, and glances it over. There’s no guarantee the man he saw in any way matches the man in the photo. Still, he needs to check. Better safe than sorry.  
He flattens his back to the building, feeling the texture of the brick on his fingertips. He takes his gun out of his pocket and clasps it tight. He slides along the building like that until he reaches the corner. He crouches down out of eye level and leans carefully around the corner of the building.  
The alley is empty apart from a few trash cans that were probably too full to remain in the office.  
Eggsy steps out into the alley and glances both ways. No sign of anybody. He pockets his gun and returns to the patent office where the clerk is just finishing the last of the signatures and stamps.  
*  
“Thank you for having me!” Eggsy shouts so Mrs. Bell can hear him. She offers him a kind smile and pats his elbow.  
“I appreciate you helping to file my patent, Mr. Harper.” Graham Bell says, shaking Eggsy’s hand.  
“Don’t mention it,” Eggsy says humbly, “I was just doing my job.”  
Graham Bell smiles politely, then walks Eggsy to the door. It is very different from his first meeting, where Graham Bell tried to shove him out.  
The door closes behind him, and Eggsy starts the walk to a place with more privacy. He can’t just vanish in broad daylight.  
He steps into the alley behind the pub he found on the first day, and his head smashes into the brick wall. He slumps to the ground, head fuzzy. He looks up blinking wildly in confusion. The man from the photograph is standing over him, gun out.  
“I can’t believe one of you fuckers came to screw it up for me again!” he hisses.  
Eggsy touches the side of his head. His fingertips come away bloody. The man holding the gun continues to monologue.  
“You couldn’t just let us file a patent?” he snarls then takes a deep breath as if getting his temper under control, “No matter. I’ll kill him anyway. He can’t improve his design if he’s dead. Now get up.” he hauls Eggsy up by his arm.  
“Why don’t you just kill me here?” Eggsy slurs and staggers sideways.  
“Too noisy. Someone will come.” the man answers and starts dragging Eggsy along behind him.  
Eggsy’s shoes and the hem of his trousers are getting caked in filth. All he can think is Merlin is gonna be so pissed. His head is pounding and he’s stumbling along after the man, half blind from the pain.  
He reaches dumbly for something that can get him out of this. The man gives him a tug and Eggsy stumbles again, and his hand brushes his pocket.  
His breath catches in his throat. His gun. He needs to find a way to get his gun without the other man noticing.  
Eggsy glances down at the hand circling his bicep. His eyes trace up past the watch-tan and slightly too short cuff, and land just above the man’s wrist. He acts on instinct. He surges forward and bites down hard. He can taste the man’s blood in his mouth. He’s reminded of old pennies.  
The man snatches his hand back, howling about Eggsy biting him. Eggsy whips his gun out of his pocket, and fires a sloppy shot. The searing pain in his head makes the shot go wide. Instead of hitting the man dead center in his chest, it pierces him between his right ribs. It works though. He stumbles away, and slips in the filth of the alley.  
Eggsy presses the center of his signet ring and the blue haze wooshes into existence in front of him. He grabs the man by his braces, and drags him along. Eggsy steps through the gate, and arrives in the kingsman hangar, moments after he left.  
Merlin is still standing there waiting for him. Eggsy offers him a smile, then his knees give out on the steps and he collapses to the floor. The last thing he hears is Merlin calling for a medic before he passes out.


	4. 1961

“Can I ask why ye thought dragging this man through the gate was a good idea?” Merlin asks.  
Eggsy is still stretched out on his hospital bed. Medical says it is the worst concussion he’s had yet. While it wasn’t likely he was in danger, they took no chances. He’s been held for observation for three days now.  
“I panicked.” Eggsy admits, “Didn’t think I could leave the body there so I pulled him through. Did you find any connection to Chester or Valentine?”  
“Other than him being in the past? No. We have no leads on who they all work for.”   
Eggsy sighs and sinks back in his pillows. He wished they’d found something.  
Merlin stands up and taps his clipboard a few times, probably filing the debrief.  
“When you’re ready we have a mission for ye.” he announces.  
“Bruv! I have a concussion!” Eggsy cries indignantly.  
“Hence why I said when you’re ready,” Merlin says without looking up, “Good day agent.”  
*  
Eggsy meets Roxy in the hallway on the way down for briefing. She smiles at him and punches him lightly on the shoulder.  
“Good to see you up and about.”  
“I wasn’t out that long,” Eggsy laughs, “I was only out for a few minutes.”  
“Medical didn’t release you for four days.” she points out.  
“Only as precaution.”   
Roxy’s glasses beep and she taps the frame to answer them. It’s just text message because a second later she taps the frame again.  
“Meeting with Arthur. I have to go.”  
“I’m meeting with him too.”  
“Joint mission?”  
“Fuck yeah.” Eggsy says with a grin and gives her a high five.  
They finish the walk together and pull open the door to the conference room.  
Arthur is sitting at the head of the table as usual. Merlin is absent, probably swamped with either tech or outfitting. He needs a break.  
Instead Emrys is waiting with the files. He passes the two folders to Roxy as she passes, and she passes the one with Eggsy’s name on it to him.  
They take their seats and settle in for debriefing.  
“Gate coordinates indicate March of 1961, Berkshire England.” Arthur announces.   
*  
“I feel like an idiot. Pockets are a blessing.” Roxy hisses.  
“How are you not used to this,” Eggsy laughs, “You do this like every other day.”  
“And every single time I get more enraged by the patriarchy,” Roxy says and gestures emphatically with her purse, “How am I supposed to hide my gun in a pocketbook this small?”  
“I dunno babe but you look cute.”  
Her hair is twisted into a pretty bun, and she’s wearing a pink trapeze dress that floats around her. It makes her look like a fairy. If Eggsy didn’t know her kitten heels were dipped in neurotoxin and that her pocketbook had a loaded gun in it, he would swear she was the epitome of innocent grace.  
Roxy gives him a thoroughly unimpressed look, but it breaks into a small smile.   
“Lets go over our plan.”   
“Rox. We went over it twice before stepping through the gate, plus reviewing it with Arthur three times.” Eggsy complains  
“I know,” Roxy says defensively, “I like going over the plan to keep it straight. Lists keep me calm.”  
“Alright. We go our separate ways here. We meet up every three days to update each other on our missions. If caught together we say you're my sister.” Eggsy repeats  
“Right. Tonight I will be at the party at the Cliveden cottage. My responsibility is to remove anyone who might interfere with the affair--”  
“And my job is to get kicked out of a nightclub.” Eggsy finished.   
Roxy takes a deep breath and nods, “Perfect. I will meet you on the Thames in three days.”  
“Hang on. Fly aways.” Eggsy says before Roxy can walk away. She fishes out the little compact out of her pocketbook and Eggsy holds it up while she smooths her hair down and fixes her lipstick. The gate has a tendency to rumple clothes and smear makeup.   
“Okay. See you in three days.” Roxy says and returns the compact.   
“Three days,” Eggsy agrees, “You got this.”  
They nod one more time, and break away from each other. Roxy floats away in her kitten heels.   
Eggsy can just spot the house out in the distance. The lights are pouring out of the windows. Cars pull up, and vanish down the driveway looking like ants at this distance.   
He turns and heads the other way. He has to head into London proper.   
The sun had long since set by the time he finally reaches his destination. The club is already in full swing. Music echoes loudly into the street whenever the door opens to admit someone, the chatter inside is almost as loud. Light spills onto the pavement through the entryway.  
Eggsy checks his watch. It's seven o’clock. He has an hour before he needs to put his plan in action. His target comes out of the club at 8:05 exactly. How the history department figured out the right time, he has no idea. But he has no choice but to trust the information he was given.   
He checks his reflection in the window of the closed appliance store nearby. He looks nice for a 21st century man trying to pass himself off as a twink from the 60s.   
He hangs around the area for the next hour. He keeps one eye on the club, observing the bouncers. So far no one has been ejected from the club. It makes it difficult to tell who he should go after when he makes his big scene.   
He eventually decides to go for the one on the left. His voice is the loudest when he talks to patrons. Hopefully that will translate to his shouting voice when Eggsy needs to get his target’s attention.   
At 8 on the dot, Eggsy approaches the club. He staggers drunkenly up the street, and crashes into a few trash cans. The noise draws the attention of the patrons waiting in line, and the two bouncers on the door.   
He staggers right up to them and tries to push by them. The bouncers shove him back several paces and he wavers dizzily on the sidewalk.   
Then he tries to shove by the bouncer on the left.   
“Lemme through.” he slurs loudly  
“Sorry mate. Ain't no one like you allowed through.” the bouncer on the left replies and his naturally loud voice carries.   
“I don't wanna stay,” Eggsy says raising his voice almost to a shout, “My sister’s in there!”  
“Still can't let you through.” The bouncer replies, voice raising in response.   
“That fucker’s gonna fuck my sister! And he ain't even gonna marry her!” Eggsy announces, properly shouting now.   
He can hear several patrons behind him gasp. A few women tutter at the potential scandal.   
“Still ain't gonna let you through mate,” the bouncer shouts and once again his voice carries, “Now just go home!”  
“I can't go home,” Eggsy says and emphasizes his point by pointing angrily at the club several times, “She's in there! She's gonna get herself in trouble.”  
He rushes the bouncers again and the bouncer on the left shoves Eggsy back hard, shouting something that's hard to make out over the volume. Eggsy continues to shout about his sister in response.   
At 8:05 the door opens and spits Eggsy’s target out. The way he's backlit makes his figure even more hulking and imposing than in photos. He takes a long drag on his cigar.   
“What's going on out here?” he growls as he takes in the scene in front of him.   
“This man’s been yelling about his sister, and trying to get access,” the bouncer answers, “Tried explaining that he weren't gonna be let in but it didn't work.”  
The target turns to Eggsy with a scowl, his heavy glasses glinting in the lights. When he takes Eggsy in fully however, his scowl softens a little. Just liked Eggsy hoped.   
“What's this about your sister?” he asks  
“Old rich fuck’s been after her for ages. He said he'd marry her. Only I found out he's married,” Eggsy lies, “And now he's in there with her making promises he ain't gonna keep and getting her sloshed!”  
His target takes another drag on his cigar, looking Eggsy over. Then he cocks his head towards the door.   
“You got two minutes to find her.” he announces.   
And that's how Eggsy got into the good graces of Ronald Kray.   
*  
“Any sign of Chester or Valentine's men?” Eggsy asks   
Roxy shakes her head, “None. I've made friends with Christine by now. I see her practically every day. But there's been no sign of any interference.”  
“Fuck. There ain't been anything on my end either,” Eggsy groans, “These guys ain't arrested until ‘68. I can't wait around seven years for them to get caught.”  
“Relax Eggsy. We’ll figure it out,” Roxy says and squeezes his hand, “I’m here until at least December. Once the scandal is out then I can rule out Chester and Valentine's men. Otherwise I'm just as stuck as you.”  
“What if they ain't even here to mess with the ‘60s? We could be stuck here until the ‘90s when their agents are old enough to put the plan in motion.”  
“We just have to pray that doesn't happen, or that Kingsman would send an agent to retrieve us before that happened.”  
Eggsy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. There's no reason to panic. Not yet.   
“I'll see you in three days yeah?” he asks.   
“Three days.” Roxy agrees  
*  
Eggsy shuffles down the incline towards Ron’s camper. The autumn leaves cover the ground, turning it into a carpet of red and gold.   
The fire pit is empty, as are the metal lawn chairs. Ron is nowhere to be seen which probably means he's inside.   
Eggsy knocks the special knock, then pulls the door open. He's learned over the last few weeks that Ron’s paranoia makes it unwise to approach without announcing himself.   
“I'm back Ron!” he calls out.   
There's a snuffling sound and Ron sits up on the bed at the back of the trailer, “Teddy?”  
“It's me.” Eggsy responds   
Ron smiles and pats the bed next to him. Eggsy stretches out on his stomach.   
“My brother is stopping by with his new girl.” Ron announces as he trails his fingers along Eggsy’s back.   
“Francis?” Eggsy clarifies  
“Yeah. Francis.” Ron says.   
Eggsy rolls onto his side and takes Ron’s hand in his, “you don't look happy about meeting her.”  
“I'm never happy about meeting Reg’s girls.” Ron grumbles.   
“Give her a chance,” Eggsy advises, placing his hand on Ron’s chest, “Ain't her fault you get jealous of your brother.”  
“What've I said about talking about my brother like that?” Ron grumbles  
“Not to,” Eggsy responds cheerfully, “But I'm right.”  
Ron snorts and presses a sloppy kiss to Eggsy’s lips. He pulls away just as a car rumbles up outside.   
“Oi! Ron! You in there?” Reg calls.   
Eggsy gives Ron a gentle shove and says, “I'll be out in a minute. Give you two some alone time yeah?”  
Ron rolls his eyes, gives Eggsy’s ass a smack, then hulks his way outside.   
Eggsy sighs and collapses back on the bed. Ron isn't so bad. He's handsome. Maybe not as handsome as his brother, but still nice. Only he reminds Eggsy of Dean. The way he has to walk on a razor edge of violence to keep from getting hurt is way too familiar. He never thought he'd pray for one of Chester and Valentine's men to attack him.   
He pushes himself off the bed and heads for outside. He promised he would leave Ron and Reg alone after all.   
As he climbs up the slope, he pauses and turns around to give Ron a wink. Then he heads into the woods to clear his head.   
*  
“Would you like to stay and take care of him Ted?” Reg asks  
Eggsy’s gut reaction is “fuck no! I don't want to clean up your brother’s face after the two of you wailed on each other.” But he's done such a good job of infiltrating the gang that he can't say no. It would be suspicious. And, frankly, Reggie scares the crap out of him.   
So he smiles nervously and nods, “I'd like that.”  
“Do me a favor, burn his clothes,” Reggie instructs softly as the gang starts to clear out of Mrs. Kray’s living room, “Can't have him going back to the asylum.”  
Eggsy nods and Reg leaves. Eggsy trails after Mrs. Kray into her kitchen. She's rattling around with the kettle, making tea just like any mum when they feel overwhelmed.   
“They aren't bad boys.” she says softly as she sets the water on to boil.   
“Course not.” Eggsy agrees  
“They take such good care of their ma.” she insists  
“I know.” Eggsy assures her  
They fall silent as the water boils. Mrs. Kray fixes tea the way her son likes it, then puts everything on a tray and passes it to Eggsy.   
“Your mum made tea.” Eggsy says softly as he pushes open the bedroom door.   
Ron grunts at him and doesn’t move the ice pack from his face. Eggsy sets the tea tray down on the bedside table.  
“Wanna get out of those clothes?” he asks  
Ron sits up and nods. Eggsy moves forward and slips Ron’s jacket off. It’s dark so no blood shows. His shirt is a mess. He’s going to have to burn that just like Reg said.  
He takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. If the blood was from a gunshot or an accident, he would be okay. But the images of Reg and Ron going at each other like that.. It just makes him think of Dean. He’s done a good job of pretending to be turned on by the danger, but he’s worried his cover will slip before he and Roxy can get home.  
After he gets Ron out of his clothes, he lays down next to him on the bed. Ron pulls him close, and they remain in their uneasy silence. Eggsy can hear Ron’s snoring breaths.  
“I’m gonna meet my sister tomorrow.” Eggsy announces into the dark room.  
“She needs you a lot.” Ron remarks.  
“Yeah well,” Eggsy shrugs, “She’s been a mess since she broke up with that bloke.”  
Ron grunts, only half listening. Before long, Ron falls asleep. Eggsy follows.  
*  
“I was thinking I should come meet this sister of yours.” Ron announces over his morning cup of tea.  
Eggsy nearly chokes on his drink, “What? Why? You don’t like meeting anyone unless you can fuck them.”  
Ron snorts in amusement. It’s true.  
“Gotta admit, I don’t like that you’re meeting her so much,” Ron says, “You could be going anywhere. You could be talking to the police.”  
“I ain’t gonna do that to you and Reg.” Eggsy insists.  
“Then you shouldn’t have a problem with me going to your meeting,” Ron says easily, “Wanna know who’s taking you outta my bed for the day.”  
*  
Eggsy is very aware of the hulking presence at his side as he walks to the bench on the Thames. Roxy is waiting for him as she always is but she hasn’t looked up yet. She won’t have any warning about Ron.  
Eggsy’s stomach is in knots. He needs Roxy to keep his cover.  
As they approach, Eggsy clears his throat as loudly as he can. It’s loud enough that it draws Roxy’s attention. She smiles when she sees him, and opens her mouth to greet him. Just in the nick of time, she spots Ron. She jumps to her feet, and shoots Eggsy a look.  
“Richie,” she greets, “I didn’t know you were bringing anyone.”  
Behind Eggsy Ron snorts and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ‘Richie’. Eggsy walks up to Roxy and kisses her cheek.  
“You know I don’t go by Richie anymore. It’s Teddy.” Eggsy says, pretending to remind his sister to stop referring to him by his childhood nickname.  
“I’m afraid you’ll always be Richie to me,” Roxy jokes then smiles at Ron, “Who’s your friend?”  
“Ron.” Eggsy responds.  
Ron steps forward, kisses Roxy’s hand, and introduces himself.  
“So what do you need?” Eggsy asks, pretending to ask about a break up as his duty as a brother but really asking about the mission.  
Roxy’s eyes flick to Ron, then turns to Eggsy, “I need you to come with me.”  
“Where?”  
“Home,” Roxy answers and Eggsy’s heart soars a little. Please god let home mean Kingsman, “Mother is sick and she wants us both home. We might be gone for a while.”  
“When do we leave?” Eggsy asks.  
“As soon as possible. I’ve taken care of my business here, so you just have to get your affairs in order before we go.”   
Eggsy turns to Ron and shrugs, “I ain’t got much stuff to take. Watch it for me?”  
“I ain’t a pawn shop.” Ron grunts  
“Then give them to one of the other boys yeah?”  
Ron rolls his eyes and grunts again. Eggsy assumes that means he can go. As he walks away with Roxy to the car she stole, a gunshot goes off.  
The blood drains from Eggsy’s face. He whips around and Ron is slumped against the bench they were just sitting on. A woman is standing over him with a gun. He and Roxy are frozen in place.   
The woman pockets her gun and starts to walk away calm as you please. It’s enough to get them moving.  
“I thought you said you took care of Chester’s agent!” Eggsy yells and runs forward.  
“He must have sent more than one!” Roxy yells back  
Eggsy skids to a halt in front of Ron and yanks open his shirt. Blood is spilling out of a wound in his stomach. He’s not supposed to die like this. He’s meant to die of cancer in jail in the early 2000s.  
Eggsy presses his hands onto the wound to stop the bleeding. The irony of saving the life of a criminal mastermind that terrorizes London is not lost on him, but it’s his job to make sure history stays the same.  
There’s another gunshot, and his head jerks around in fear. His first thought is Roxy. He’s not sure he’s capable of making the choice between preserving history and saving his best friend. He blows out a sigh of relief when he realizes it’s just the woman who shot Ron.  
Ambulances are sounding in the distance. Roxy drags him off of Ron and away from the crowd of onlookers. As EMTs flood the scene, Roxy activates her signet ring, and they both step through the gate into the blessed silence of the Kingsman hangar.  
Merlin looks up from his clipboard and frowns at the pair in front of him.  
“Why are ye covered in blood?” he asks.  
“Small mishap,” Roxy answers, “One of Chester and Valentine’s agents shot Ron Kray. We’ll explain it all in the debrief with Arthur.”  
“Ye mean with me?” Merlin asks.  
“Well I mean yeah. You’ll be there bruv,” Eggsy says, “But we report to Arthur.”  
“What are the two of ye on about? I’ve been acting Arthur since ye killed Chester.”


	5. 1936

“So according to this,” Roxy says and passes Eggsy the tablet she was using for research, “That woman on the Thames wasn’t one of Chester and Valentine’s agents. She was Arthur’s mother. She went there to shoot a woman she thought was stealing her fiance, I’m guessing that’s yours truly, only she hit Ron because he stepped out in front of her to follow the couple she was aiming at. Us.”  
“So she and Arthur’s dad never hooked up, so there was no Arthur, and no loyal agent to step up to take Chester’s position.” Eggsy surmises.  
“Exactly. She was released from jail shortly before she died. Arthur’s father married a woman from Antwerp, and they had six girls. None of whom moved into Kingsman.” Roxy finishes.  
“Are ye telling me,” Merlin says slowly, voice scarily calm, “That I had to give up my role in outfitting for the last two years in order to be Arthur, because ye made a woman in 1961 jealous?”  
“Yes?” Roxy answers apologetically.  
Merlin takes a deep breath and clenches his fists, trying to stay calm. He does a surprisingly good job of it considering how poorly he reacts to stress. It still explodes out of him though.  
“I fucking hate being Arthur! And you’re telling me because Roxy flirted with the wrong man, I am stuck in my own personal hell?” he shouts.  
“I’m so sorry Merlin,” Roxy responds, “I had no idea. I had to get in with Keeler and her friends and they all loved flirting and… Fuck. I am so sorry.”  
“I am going to go smash a mug against a wall now.” Merlin announces and leaves the room without another word.  
The room is deafeningly quiet for a few moments. There seems like nothing to say, nothing they could say at a moment like this. Merlin’s been stressed for two years because two years before he was even born, a woman shot at someone for flirting with her husband.  
Inexplicably, Eggsy starts to giggle. Then it turns into a few actual laughs. Then before Eggsy knows it he is practically howling with laughter.  
“Stop,” Roxy admonishes, fighting back her own smile, “It isn’t funny. We changed history.”  
“Are you shitting me,” Eggsy asks between bursts of laughter, “It’s hilarious! Merlin literally fucked up his whole life, from the present.”  
“Eggsy.” Roxy says, biting her lip. She’s trying to look disapproving but it isn’t working very well.  
“Come on,” Eggsy says, “You really don’t find this funny?”  
“Oh alright. It might be a little funny,” she admits, “I just feel bad.”  
Eggsy wipes his eyes and sighs, “Okay. I’ll stop laughing at Merlin’s pain.”  
“Good. Now go wash off. You’re still covered in blood.” she demands and points straight armed at the door.  
Eggsy stands up from his chair, and leans over to drop a kiss on Roxy’s head. He walks out of the conference room and takes the shortcut through the hangar to get to the showers.   
As he approaches the gate, something catches his attention. It was hard to hear over the machine cooling from its recent use, and the plumbing that runs underneath the hangar, but there is a distinct beeping coming from the attached computer.   
Eggsy has only been on deck for the use of the gate a few times. All the other times he’s gone through personally. Even so, he’s pretty sure that the beeping is meant to notify the handler that an agent needs the gate opened. Only, Merlin mentioned that for once all the agents were home instead of scattered through time.  
Eggsy backs away from the computer, and the gate. Then runs off towards outfitting. He doesn’t have his glasses with him, otherwise he would just call Merlin and tell him what’s up. Unfortunately his glasses are in his office on the other side of the manor, and there’s no time to go find them. No. It’s much faster to run to outfitting and either find Merlin smashing mugs against his smashing wall, or have one of outfitters use their glasses to call him.  
Eggsy skids around the corner into the hall that houses outfitting. His shoes squeal on the hardwood as he does. He runs down the hall, then flings himself at the door to outfitting, and wrenches it open.  
He makes enough noise that it draws the attention of Liz, and Owain who she’s fitting. They take one look at him, and both start shouting for Merlin.  
Merlin comes grumbling out from one of the workstations, “What? What is it now?”  
“It’s the gate. An agent activated their beacon.” Eggsy pants out.  
“All agents are accounted for.” Merlin repeats.  
“Yeah well tell that to the computer. It’s beeping up a storm.” Eggsy says.  
Merlin looks him over, and clearly decides to take his disheveled state as evidence. He grabs his clipboard and runs passed Eggsy in the direction of the hangar. Eggsy follows behind him, falling behind a little because of Merlin’s long legs.  
Merlin comes to a stop at the computer and starts hammering in whatever passcodes he needs in order to pull up the specifics of the beacon.   
“It’s coming from 1936.” Merlin reports and continues to type frantically, “We haven’t sent anyone to 1936 since Bors in the ‘90s. Not even Chester and Valentine’s agents traveled through.”  
“So what happened in 1936?” Eggsy asks.  
“King Edward VIII abdicates, Jesse Owens wins four gold medals in the Berlin Olympics and totally humiliates Hitler, The Hindenburg goes down, The spanish civil war starts.” Merlin lists.  
“All of those took place in different locations. Any chance you can cross reference the beacon signal or whatever with the locations of those events?” Eggsy suggests.  
“Maybe but it could take up to three hours to complete.” Merlin answers.  
“And how long before the tear shifts and closes the window to those years for the next week?”   
“I’d say about an hour.” Merlin answers honestly.  
“Okay,” Eggsy says with a determined nod, “You start typing. I’ll run to tech and get your minions here with laptops to speed this up.”  
“Right. Good lad. Go.” Merlin instructs.  
Eggsy takes off like a rocket again. Tech is on the floor above outfitting. So it’s not far. However with a bunch of non-field agents, carrying laptops the journey back could take a little slower. There’s no time to waste.  
Eggsy busts into tech, already yelling about the situation. The agents immediately start packing the things they need.  
Eggsy’s next stop is the showers. He and Roxy are the only ones approved for the golden era, and there’s no time to contact her. So he’s going to be the one going through the gate. He needs to shower then get to outfitting to pick up the clothes he used the last time he went to the mid 1930s.  
Pilar is already expecting him when he shows up in just his work out shorts and underwear. She tosses him his suit, and he catches it without breaking stride. He heads right into one of the changing rooms, gets dressed, and takes off running again with a thanks tossed over his shoulder to Pilar.  
He gets back to the hangar and stops next to the cluster of tech workers typing furiously into their laptops.   
“Any updates?” he asks as he approaches.   
“We’re going as fast as we can,” Emrys announces, “It should be ten more minutes. How much time do we have?”  
Eggsy checks his watch, “fifteen.”  
“We’ll make it. Barely.” Emrys says.   
Eleven minutes later there's a pinging noise and a sigh of relief goes up from everybody working.   
“War office. Spain.” Merlin calls out.   
“Okay. Send me through.” Eggsy says and darts up the steps to the gate.  
Merlin punches in the coordinates that are needed to get Eggsy to the right place. The gate whirrs to life and Eggsy jumps through with two minutes to spare.  
The cobbled streets, and tall spires of Spain greet Eggsy as he emerges. Not much has changed from then. He glances around, trying to find a sign to locate where he might be. Nothing.  
He blocks the tracks of the first person he sees.  
“Excuse me,” he says to get the man’s attention, “Can you tell me where the war office is?”  
His spanish isn’t great but his point gets across. The man points at one of the buildings just up the street. Eggsy thanks him, and rushes off.  
He pulls open the door to the war office. People are rushing around, frantic now that war has broken out.  
No one notices a well dressed gentleman slip inside. He wishes he had more time to figure to what he was getting himself into. No matter. He’s capable of thinking on his toes.  
He methodically searches each hallway. He glances in open doors, hoping something will jump out a him. By the time he’s searched the entire first floor, including the closed offices, he wishes he could pull a god damn fire alarm. It would be so much easier to spot whoever it is by forcing everyone out into the open.   
He climbs the stairs to the second floor and comes face to face with a rather harried looking secretary. She offers him a nervous smile, and clutches the folders of war documents closer to her chest.  
“Can I help you find something sir?”  
“No. I’m just meeting a colleague. I know where I’m going, but thank you.” Eggsy says politely.  
The secretary gives him a small nod, and scurries on her way. He hopes whoever she works for isn’t awful.  
He comes to the second floor, and starts his search again. His luck from his first search appears to be holding. Nothing to be found. He knocks on a closed office door, and when there’s no response he opens it and steps inside. He’s not sure what he’s looking for but he’ll know when he finds it.   
For a lack of any other ideas, he pulls open some desk drawers and rifles around inside of them. Maybe he’ll find a document that will point him in the right direction.   
The first drawer yields nothing. It’s just a bunch of old broken pencils, and smudged test pages from a typewriter. The second drawer holds the owner’s booze stash. The third holds a giant map that’s been folded so many times the paper has gone soft. The fourth, and last, drawer is just as unfruitful.   
Eggsy slams it shut in annoyance, and freezes when it makes a much louder slam than he intended. No one comes running to investigate and Eggsy blesses his lucky stars that there’s a war on.   
He aims for the cabinet next. That’s a bust as well. Just a man’s coat and hat are hanging inside. Eggsy closes the door and makes sure it shuts with a click. He doesn’t accidentally want to change history by starting a conspiracy theory about a general’s office being broken into.  
Eggsy decides to cut his losses. He can’t be caught here. He’ll be court marshalled, or whatever the 1936 equivalent of that is. He presses his ear to the door. No sound of footsteps.  
He eases the door open a smidge and makes sure to double check that no one is standing outside. Satisfied, he opens the door the rest of the way, and steps out into the hallway. He turns around and eases the door closed again.  
He takes a step back… and crashes right into somebody. His heart skips a beat, and he has a lie ready on his tongue.He had the wrong office, and didn’t want to disturb anyone by letting it swing shut on its own.  
He whips around, ready to lie his ass off, and the words stick in his throat. He found what he was coming for. Or rather who.  
“Harry?” he chokes out.  
“Hello, Eggsy,” Harry says with a small smile, “I knew you deserved that spot.”  
“Jesus Harry!” Eggsy gasps and pulls Harry into the tightest hug he’s ever given.  
“How long was I gone?” Harry asks softly.  
“Two years.” Eggsy answers.  
Harry hugs him back as tight as he could manage, “I’m so sorry Eggsy. All that shit I said was just shit.”  
Eggsy absolutely does not wipe tears from his eyes, then tugs Harry into the empty office he just left.  
“What the hell happened to you?” Eggsy demands.  
“Something went wrong with my last trip through the gate,” Harry explains, “I arrived a few days ago with absolutely no idea who I was or how I got to Spain in 1936. My signet ring was dead so I couldn’t contact anyone even if I had remembered. Then I hit my head and it all came rushing back to me. I went to the nearest historical landmark and was able to jerry rig my ring with a bit of copper wire from a radio. I’m so glad you found me, Eggsy. I shorted it out to get my signal to you. If someone hadn’t been manning the gate I.. Anyway. I believe it’s high time we went home.”   
Eggsy nods, and presses the contact on his ring. The blue shimmer of space time opens in the office, and he and Harry step through into 2017. Home once more.  
Merlin is the only one waiting for them at the gate. He must have sent the others back to the tech wing after Eggsy made it through.  
His clipboard clatters to the floor when he sees Harry.  
“Hello Merlin.” Harry says and offers Merlin a grin.  
“Don’t ye dare ‘Hello Merlin’ me you great fucking prune,” Merlin snaps, “Ye have been gone for two bloody years. Two years! I thought I’d lost you forever!”  
“No. Just temporally displaced.” Harry says, and looks way too smug about the pun.  
“Mate. Come on.” Eggsy says softly.  
Harry glances at him, then inclines his head. “You’re right. I apologize to you both. For me, it’s only been five days, maybe a week. Enough time to miss you, yes, but not enough time for me to worry about never seeing you again. I never meant to cause you worry.”  
Merlin nods stiffly, “I missed you.”  
“I understand,” Harry says softly, “Now who wants to explain to me what the hell happened.”  
So Merlin and Eggsy take turns explaining what happened. How Valentine has been trying to rewrite history for years but could never find a tear for himself. How he somehow got in touch with Chester King, and they made a deal. How Chester was guaranteed massive payouts everytime he smuggled in one of Valentine’s men. Then further guaranteed a higher and higher position in society as the master plan included depositing money and gaining control of resources. How Chester must have tampered with Harry’s ring before the last mission, and how he must have done something to the gate to try to kill Harry only it took his memories instead.  
“Eggsy would have made ye proud, Harry,” Merlin says in a surprising moment of kindness, “He figured out a good chunk of the plan form a text on Chester’s phone and then saved the world. He killed Valentine in 1972.”  
“I had help,” Eggsy says quickly, “Roxy was with me.”  
“Nonetheless, you still were instrumental in keeping the world in order. You did a fine job.” Harry praises.  
As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Eggsy is relieved to hear Harry’s praise once again.  
“Well he didn’t keep time totally in order,” Merlin says, “Did you Eggsy?”  
“Oh?” Harry asks  
“Roxy and I may have erased old Arthur from existence…” Eggsy admits reluctantly.  
Harry snorts and turns to Merlin, “So who’s been serving as Arthur for the last two years?”  
“Me,” Merlin answers, “Which brings us to our next item of business. I hereby tender my resignation from the post of Arthur and nominate you to fill the position.”  
“What? No! I don’t--” Harry starts but Eggsy jumps in.  
“I second the nomination.”  
“Thank you Eggsy. The table will vote tomorrow on whether to approve Agent Galahad the Senior as Arthur,” Merlin announces and stands to leave the conference room. He pauses though and squeezes Harry’s shoulder, “It’s good to have ye back.”  
He leaves Harry and Eggsy alone in the conference room.  
“So… your ring malfunctioning..” Eggsy starts.  
“Yes?” Harry prompts.  
“Is that what happened to my dad? Is he just stuck somewhere in history with no way to get home?”  
“We can’t be sure.” Harry answers.  
“What do you mean you can’t be sure? Is he back there or not?” Eggsy demands.  
“Your father’s ring malfunctioned because of the gate. The night he left, there was a power outage as he stepped through the gate. It was down for several minutes and by the time we brought it back up, we’d lost the signal.  
He could be stuck somewhere in history. Or he could have died as a result of a faulty temporal transition. We just aren’t sure.”  
Eggsy nods and juts his jaw a little, “Whatever. Grew up without him anyway. Don’t need to go find him now that I’m all grown up.”  
“I’m sorry Eggsy.” Harry says softly.  
Eggsy shakes his head and stands up, “It’s really good to have you back Harry.”  
“It’s good to be back Eggsy.” Harry responds.  
“Stop by my place for drinks? Kind of a welcome back?” Eggsy suggests.  
“I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check on that. There’s someone I have to see before anyone else,” Harry answers, “But perhaps tomorrow evening?”  
“Yeah. Sure. Tomorrow evening.” Eggsy agrees and shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks out.


	6. 2004

Eggsy smiles politely at the bartender, and orders a pint. The man looks at him with a mildly surprised look on his face. He probably wasn’t expecting even an attempt at spanish. It’s peak season for American spring-breakers.  
The bartender passes him the pint of lukewarm beer and Eggsy thanks him. He leans against the bar and glances around. He has time to kill before his mission starts.  
*  
“You’re going back to 2004.” Harry explains and passes Eggsy the folder.  
“Holy shit. Where?” Eggsy asks and flis open the file folder.  
“Mexico,” Harry answers hesitantly, “Why?”  
“Because I was fifteen at the time,” Eggsy explains, “I could go back and tell myself that the baggy tee shirt over a long sleeve shirt, and spiked hair was a bad look.”  
“Yes well the only reason you get to go back is because there’s no way you could meet yourself,” Harry says, “We’re taking a risk with the timeline sending you back as is.”  
*  
The fashion is just as terrible as Eggsy remembers. This is spring break so the girls are all in bikinis but their hair is bleached blonde and done extremely poorly. A lot of the men are wearing mesh and camo print caps. Others still have their hair spiked with their sunglasses turned around to hook on the back of their head.  
Eggsy doesn’t look much better to be fair. He’s dressed in a shirt with the sleeves cut off, and cargo shorts. He misses his clothes from 2017.  
The door to the bar squeaks open, and Eggsy glances over his shoulder. Just another spring-breaker. At least this time there’s a break from the spiked hair and parade of frosted tips. The guy’s head is shaved, similar to Merlin’s.  
Eggsy turns back around and continues to sip his beer. The guy sidles up next to him and orders something from the bartender as well.   
They ignore each other for the most part. The guy offers Eggsy a ‘I’m sorry I’m in your space smile’ and Eggsy offers a ‘Don’t worry about it’ smile back.  
The guy gets his beer then slinks off somewhere, probably to join his friends. Eggsy is alone for now.  
*  
“There’s a major meeting in Cancun that week. It’s a summit to try to equalize the poor countries of the world with the rich countries,” Harry explains, “At least that’s what Lucy found when she was researching.”  
“So what’s my job? Make sure everyone gets there and it goes well.” Eggsy asks.  
“Historically it was a major clusterfuck. We aren’t sure what Chester and Valentine's organization could gain by interfering. But it’s all we could find.”  
*  
“Hey. You here with anybody?” the guy asks.  
Eggsy turns to him in surprise, “What?”  
“I was asking if you were with anyone here,” the guy repeats with a smile. His voice has a southern lilt to it, “It’s just that my friends noticed you ain’t here with anyone.”  
“Oh. Nah,” Eggsy responds focusing on sounding as American as possible, “I’m not here with anyone.”  
The guy leans up against the bar, clearly settling in for whatever is about to go down, “How come? Spring break ain’t usually for drinking alone.”  
“My girlfriend broke up with me,” Eggsy explains, “I’d already booked a room though. They weren’t gonna refund me.”  
The guy’s face falls a little. It’s almost like he’s disappointed by something Eggsy said.   
“Girlfriend huh?” he asks.  
“Yup.” Eggsy agrees, totally lost, “Why?”  
“Ah nothing,” the guy responds cheerfully, “Just thought… Anyway. I’ll stop bothering you.”  
“Thought what?” Eggsy asks as the guy starts to walk away.  
“That maybe you were like me. You have a good afternoon.” he says.  
Eggsy frowns. Like him? What on earth--   
“Oh!” Eggsy shouts and everyone, including the guy, turns to look at him, “Sorry. I’m dense as shit.” he adds much quieter.  
The guy smiles and walks the few steps back to Eggsy, “Buy you a drink?”  
“Yeah. Alright,” Eggsy responds and leans against the bar as well, “I’m Eggsy.”  
“Jesse.”  
“Nice to meet you Jesse.”  
Now that Eggsy is looking at him, Jesse isn’t so bad. He could stand to grow his hair out a bit but he has a kind face; gentle blue eyes, a strong nose. He has a little bit of a goatee but Eggsy can forgive him for that. The early 2000s were not kind for fashion, and he’s sure fifteen year old Eggsy is somewhere in London right now trying to grow a dumb goatee of his own and is only managing peach fuzz.  
“So what school do you go to?” Jesse asks as the bartender passes them their drinks.  
“Berkeley.” Eggsy blurts. He knows fuck all about American universities.   
“Fuck man,” Jesse laughs, “That ain’t something to sneeze at. What’re you studying?”  
“Geography,” Eggsy responds, “What about you?”  
“History at University of South Carolina.” Jesse answers.  
“That’s cool man. You got a focus yet?”  
“Combo of Ancient civilizations, and American History. Couldn’t pick between the two so I said fuck it.”  
Eggsy grins, “Fair enough.”  
Jesse is surprisingly easy to talk to. He’s sharp in a way that Eggsy’s only seen on other kingsman agents. But he’s so much more real than that. None of his laughs are tightly contained, his stories aren’t guarded. It’s the first time since finding Harry alive that Eggsy feels connected to someone again.  
They order pint after pint of cheap room temperature beer. It’s disgusting and they both know it. They’re too caught up in the company of one another to care though.  
“Hey,” Jesse slurs drunkenly and leans close to Eggsy as if to share a secret, “Why don’t we go back to your room?”  
Cold dread drops into Eggsy’s stomach and sobers him up. He didn’t think this through. He doesn’t actually have a hotel room. He didn’t think of that when he started flirting. He was just thinking that Jesse’s huge arms would probably be great asset.  
“I kinda lost my room key,” he lies, “Management said it was gonna take until morning to get me another one.”  
Jesse just shrugs, “Then come back to mine.”  
They stumble drunkenly out of the bar. The night is sticky and warm. The waves can just barely be heard crashing on the beach a few blocks away.  
Jesse’s hotel room is tiny. People have stuff piled on every available surface, to no surprise. He’s probably sharing the place with three other guys.   
Jesse grabs a sock off the floor and hangs it across the doorknob. Fors whatever reason that draws a laugh from Eggsy. He didn’t think people actually used that as a signal.  
Jesse closes the door with a click. The blinds don’t close so the neon fluorescent light off the gas station right next door shines right in the window. It bathes the room in a pink-purple light.  
Jesse backs Eggsy up against the edge of the bed and bends down slightly to kiss him. The height difference didn’t seem like much while they were at the bar but now those few inches are putting a damper on things.  
Eggsy hooks one leg around Jesse’s hip and Jesse’s large hand comes down to cup his ass.   
They pull away for a breath and Eggsy shoves at the hem of Jesse’s shirt, “Off.” he instructs.  
Jesse snorts in amusement but yanks his shirt off over his head. Eggsy is once again thankful for the lack of hair gel. He remembers the first time he tried to take a guy’s shirt off, it rubbed the guy’s hair the wrong way but the gel made it stick in place.  
Jesse gives him a light shove. Eggsy falls back against the bed, and immediately starts wriggling out of the ridiculous cargo shorts he crammed himself into before walking through the gate.   
They snag on his ankle but he doesn’t have time to shake them off. Jesse tosses one leg over Eggsy, and then they’re making out again. The air conditioner in the room isn’t working. The room is nearly as warm as the night outside. They’re chests alternately stick and slide as Jesse grinds down.  
Eggsy lets out a grunt and fumbles with the tie on the board shorts that Jesse is wearing. Jesse takes pity on him and shucks them, tossing them absently on the floor. Eggsy’s shirt follows.  
Jesse kneels up on the bed, and hitches one of Eggsy’s legs around his waist again. He leans down and deepens the kiss, fingers dropping to the crease of Eggsy’s hip.   
Eggsy pulls away from the kiss, “Condoms.”  
Jesse pulls back and stares down at Eggsy blankly for a second. Eggsy would be flattered that he could fluster the man so badly if he wasn’t gagging for it at this point.   
“I won’t fuck you bare.” Eggsy pants, eyebrows raised.   
“Right.” Jessea pants and leans sideways off the bed to get at the bedside drawer.  
Eggsy presses himself up on his elbows, watching the play of muscle in the strange lighting..   
Jesse emerges victorious moments later with condoms and lube. He gives Eggsy another searing kiss and hitches his leg up again.   
He fumbles blindly at Eggsy’s hip, slips his fingers lower, then presses one slick finger into Eggsy. Eggsy groans softly and tilts his hips forward, seeking more. The stretch is just on the right side of burning.   
Eggsy moans softly and Jesse presses an open mouthed kiss at his shoulder. He pumps his fingers in and out, trying to let Eggsy get used to the feel.   
“I’m good.” Eggsy promises.  
“You sure?” Jesse asks.  
“Yeah,” Eggsy says with a daring grin, “Lets go.”  
Jesse pulls his finger free and Eggsy fights back the whine that builds in his throat at the loss. He doesn't have to wait long, Jesse returns with two and presses them inside steadily and carefully, giving Eggsy time to adjust.   
“I can take more than that.” Eggsy pants and that draws a giggle from Jesse.  
“I ain’t gonna hurt you just cause you’re impatient darlin’.”  
“Not impatient. Just ready.” Eggsy says contrarily.   
Jesse presses in more roughly, pumping his fingers in and out hard enough to make Eggsy see stars. This time Eggsy doesn't have to tell Jesse he's ready. He adds a third finger and more lube.   
Eggsy grunts and pulls Jesse down for another kiss. His rhythm falters slightly and the change in angle sends Eggsy cursing.   
“You ready?” Jesse pants against Eggsy’s mouth.   
“If you don't fuck me right now--” Eggsy starts but his cut off by another sloppy kiss.   
Jesse’s fingers slide free and are replaced by the head of his cock, pressing inside.   
Jesse sinks all the way in and gives Eggsy a second to catch his breath. When Eggsy nods, he starts pumping his hips.   
He sets a slow steady rhythm until Eggsy is used to the new stretch. Then he picks up the pace, fucking into Eggsy with abandon.   
Eggsy is sweating like mad now. His hands slip off Jesse’s shoulders as he tries to haul him in closer. He moans loudly as Jesse takes his signal and fucks into him with a particularly hard thrust.  
His face is lost in shadow. Occasionally when he pumps his hips the light from next door highlights the plains of his face. His nose stands out prominently in this lighting. Eggsy feels the strange urge to compose poetry about that nose, how it is noble and strong or how it reminds him of what he assumed gods’ noses must look like, especially when Jesse uses it to nose at his jaw then follows it with a light nip. It draws a cry from deep in Eggsy’s chest.  
“That’s it darlin’” Jesse pants, “You don’t needa be quiet.”  
His hand drops to Eggsy’s cock, and Eggsy’s hips buck up. He lets out another undignified whine.   
“Jesus,” Eggsy whines, “You keep doing that and I’m not gonna last..”  
“Kinda the point.” Jesse laughs and gives Eggsy another searing kiss.  
Eggsy’s heel digs into Jesse’s back, driving him further inside. They both moan and Jesse stills, reaching his own climax. He gives Eggsy a few more lazy strokes and it sends Eggsy over the edge. He spills over Jesse’s fingers.   
Jesse rolls off of him and stretches out on the bed. They’re both panting, breathless from heat and exertion.   
“Any chance you could open that window?” Eggsy asks.  
“Sure.” Jesse responds and shuffles to the edge of the bed. He shoves the cloudy glass up. A blast of cool wind blows in off the beach, raising goosebumps across Eggsy’s torso.  
“I’ll leave in a minute.” Eggsy promises.  
“Fuck that. Just stay the night,” Jesse says as he stretches out next to Eggsy on the bed again, “It’s late and you’re drunk. Plus my roommates saw me disappear with you. They ain’t coming back tonight.”  
It’s better than trying to crash in a park or on the beach like Eggsy’s original plan. So he shrugs and settles into a more comfortable position, “Alright. I’ll stay then.”   
“Good.” Jesse agrees, apparently already half asleep.  
Eggsy settles in for sleep as well. He has to be up early tomorrow anyway. He needs to go back to where he stashed his gun first thing.  
*  
Sunlight filters into the room, and falls right across Eggsy’s face. He blinks his eyes open and takes stock of his surroundings. The room is even more of a disaster than he thought it was last night. He pushes himself up on his elbows to take better stock of everything. Clothes are strewn in every direction. There are open baggies of weed on the bedside tables. There are empty food wrappers spilling out of the trash.  
Eggsy collapses back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Next to him Jesse stirs awake. He turns to look at Eggsy.  
He squints at him, “You’re still here.” he remarks voice craggy with sleep.  
“You invited me to stay the night.” Eggsy reminds him.  
“I know. I just thought you’d’ve left by now.”  
“I can go if you want me to.” Eggsy offers, used to getting kicked out first thing in the morning.  
“No,” Jesse says quickly, “Stay. I was just surprised.”  
They fall silent again. It is nice to just enjoy each other’s company.  
“What time is it?” Eggsy asks.  
“About eight.” Jesse answers.  
“Shit!” Eggsy shrieks and jumps out of bed. The meeting starts at nine. He’s barely going to have enough to get to his gun and make it to the meeting in time.   
“What? What’s wrong?” Jesse asks, sitting up.  
Eggsy hops around the room, yanking on the cargo shorts, “It’s complicated. I can’t really explain.”  
“Nothing to do with me, I hope.” Jesse jokes.  
Eggsy stops hopping around for one second, and presses a kiss to Jesse’s lips.  
“It has nothing to do with you. I’ll see you around. Promise.”  
He yanks his shirt on over his head, locates his shoes, and books it out of the hotel room. He runs a few blocks then pulls open the door of the first unlocked car he can find. He would have done this in the parking lot of the motel but he didn’t want Jesse to call the police. He pulls out the swiss army knife he carries in his pocket, using the screwdriver and wire stripper, he hotwires the car.  
*  
He hangs out outside of the building for hours. So far no one suspicious has gone in or come out.   
Eggsy’s heart is in his throat. If he missed the other agent he is screwed. Potentially the whole world is screwed. He needs to find a way inside.  
He glances both ways, then darts across the street. He’s sure there are cameras everywhere but it’s not like they’ll ever find him if he is caught on tape.  
The back door is unlocked. He pulls it open and sneaks up the backstairs, the ones that are technically only accessible by janitor.   
He gets to the right floor and exits into the main hallway. He creeps along, keeping his tread light. He pauses and presses his ear to every door on his way down the hallway. Finally he finds the right room. He doesn’t have to press his ear to the door to hear the arguing.  
He hangs out there for nearly twenty minutes. No sign of interruption from another agent. There’s a particularly mighty uproar and Eggsy can hear people storming to the door. The meeting must be over. He sneaks away before anyone can see him.  
He exits the backstairs and takes a second to think. If the agent didn’t go back in time to somehow change the outcome of this meeting, then what was their goal?  
He crosses back to the front of the building, lost in thought.  
Tires squeal on the street in front of him. Eggsy’s head jerks up at the sound and he finds the source car. An old toyota is fishtailing out of control. Whoever is behind the wheel is desperately trying to turn the wheel to compensate but it isn’t enough.   
There’s a sickening crunch as the car careens into the side of a building. THe hood crumples back like the lid on a can of tuna.  
That isn’t what catches Eggsy’s attention though. A man scuttles around behind a building, almost too quick for Eggsy to see.  
Eggsy gives chase. He catches up to the guy within seconds. Clearly he wasn’t expecting company. He has a remote in his right hand.  
When he sees Eggsy, his eyes go wide. He brings up a gun to shoot but Eggsy is faster. He drops to the pavement.   
Eggsy rushes forward, and peels the man’s fingers off the remote. He can’t risk something like this falling into the wrong hands.  
With that sorted he rushes back to the scene of the accident. It seems, ludicrously, that no one has noticed the smoking car. The smoking car. The smoking car!  
Eggsy rushes forward and braces himself against the body of the car and wrenches at the crumpled door with all his might. Whoever is inside is in more danger if they stay than if they’re moved.   
The door finally pops open. Of all the people Eggsy expected to be in the car, this was not one of them. It’s Jesse. Why Chester and Valentine's organization wanted to kill him, Eggsy has no idea. There’s no time to think about it though.  
He leans over and unbuckles Jesse’s seatbelt. They were probably counting on him not wearing one and going sailing out the front windshield.  
Eggsy squats and gets the bulk of Jesse’s body over his shoulders. Then he backs out, bringing Jesse with him. He thought Merlin was nuts when he trained them in shit like this but now he sees the value.  
He gets a few feet from the car before there’s a loud WHUMPH and the whole thing catches on fire. He lays Jesse down on a patch of grass. The explosion was apparently enough to draw attention. Eggsy can hear sirens in the distance.  
*  
Eggsy knocks on the door to the hospital room and pokes his head inside. Jesse is sitting up in bed. He grins when he sees Eggsy.  
“Hey. You stayed?” he asks.  
“Yeah. I gotta leave pretty soon but I wanted to make sure you were okay before I went.” Eggsy responds.  
“Broken arm. Concussion. I’m okay other than that though,” Jesse answers, “Thanks to you. The docs told me you pulled me out.”  
“I did but it’s what anyone would have done.” Eggsy says dismissively.  
“You saved my life and you wanna say it ain’t a big deal?” Jesse asks incredulously, “That dog don’t hunt.”  
Eggsy shrugs, “You’re okay though? You don’t need anything?”  
“I’m good as I can be.” Jesse answers.  
“Then I’m gonna go.” Eggsy explains and walks over. He gives Jesse one last kiss.  
“Keep in touch?” Jesse asks.  
“Yeah. I will.” Eggsy promises.  
He leaves the hospital, and turns into the alley. He activates his ring and steps back into 2017. He needs to tell Merlin and Harry what happened.


	7. 2017

Eggsy can’t stop thinking about Jesse. He can’t get what Chester and Valentine would want with some college kid from the south. He hopes he’s okay.  
He’s lost in thought and almost misses Pilar and Merlin waiting in the hallway.  
“Why are we all out here?” he asks  
Liz shushes him loudly and throws her tape measure at him.   
Harry comes running down the hall, seemingly to meet them, “Have I missed it?” he calls.  
Merlin and Liz both shake their heads and gesture to him to hurry up.  
Eggsy frowns, “Missed what?”  
His question is ignored and Merlin and Harry and Liz all peek into the sewing room. Figuring his best chance at an answer is to look as well he follows suit. Owain is standing there.  
“Owain getting ready for a mission?” he asks.  
Owain turns and sees Eggsy. He offers him a wave then bites back a laugh as a hand reaches out and snatches him away from the door. Apparently Hamish the Second is working on his inseam.  
Merlin snatches Eggsy by the collar of his shirt and presses him up against the wall.   
“Will ye shut up?” he hisses softly, “I swear to god if ye mess this up I will make sure ye get sent to 1179. The clothes are incredibly itchy then.”  
Eggsy turns to Harry imploringly, “Harry? Help?”  
“No,” Harry says softly, “We have been working on this for month Galahad. You will not mess this up.”  
Eggsy winces. If Harry is calling him Galahad then he really fucked up.  
“Shit. Is it a mission?” he asks, “Does Owain have a rough mission?”  
“I hope the clothes allow enough room for the vigorous dancing that occurred in 1927,” Liz says loudly, “Hamish you should double check that.”  
Moments later the sounds of period typical bouncy jazz float out of the sewing room. Harry peeked inside and turned around with a triumphant smile.  
“They are dancing.”  
Pilar has taken up residence on the floor and she peeks inside as well. She’s smiling happily. Merlin looks like he wants to look inside too but his hand just tightens on Eggsy’s collar.  
Harry seems to understand and he relieves Merlin, blocking Eggsy’s access to the door. Merlin drops an arm across Liz’s shoulder and smiles happily at the dancing pair. Then his brow crinkles.  
“The break on the trousers is too high for 1927.” he says, too loudly. Liz gives him a shove and Harry yanks Merlin away from the door.   
“Holy shit,” Eggsy says realizing, “Is Hamish the Second the bloke that Owain goes on and on about being perfect and wanting to kiss and listen to music with? But he’s old and grumpy!”  
Merlin, Liz, and Pilar all turn on him. Liz punches his arm. Merlin looks like he’s barely preventing himself from smacking upside the head.  
The three ignore him again and poke their heads back around the door to see what’s going on. Apparently they aren’t going fast enough because it draws a roar of ‘kiss him’ from the group.  
Hamish the Second kissed him. “Be a dear and steal me a few ties from 1927?”  
“I’d be happy to.”  
They must kiss because Merlin is well pleased. He turns to Harry, “That reminds me. Arthur please instruct your agents to steal more accessories for us. The clothes we can manage but hats, scarves, jewelry, and watches would be fantastic.”  
“Dear god have them steal hose,” Pilar begs, “That stuff kills my hands.”  
“Yes, Arthur, thread. Can they steal thread?” Liz asks.  
They all get so wrapped up in asking Harry for something, that they ignore Eggsy. Eggsy pokes his head in the door and watches the couple kiss for a moment or two. His heart clenches a little and his mind goes back to Jesse. He hopes that wherever he is, he’s safe and happy.  
He pulls back and turns to the group, and Harry is already walking away down the hall. Apparently overwhelmed by the requests flying at him.  
“We need beads!” Merlin shouted after him.  
“See I made that happen, you all sucked at shipping and matchmaking.” Eggsy jokes and gestures to the two men still kissing in the sewing room.  
Merlin glares at him so hard, that it makes the blood drain from Eggsy’s face for a second. He mutters a soft sorry and scoots away down the hall, tail between his legs.  
*  
“What the fuck is this?” Eggsy asks, taking in his reflection in the mirror, “How come I’m the only agent getting punished.”  
“Because you ruin our work on the regular,” Liz answers, “But lime green izod looks good on you.”  
“I look vile.” Eggsy says hopelessly.  
“You do,” she agrees with a little too much cheer in her voice, “Wait until you see the pleated khakis.”  
“Roxy gets her pick of assignments and I get the fucking 80s? I hate the 80s.”  
“Any reasonable person does,” she agrees, “But there is one advantage.”  
“What?” Eggsy asks, frowning.  
“Well if you hang out in front of the shop for a bit you might get a glance at young Harry and Merlin,” she whispers, “Merlin had hair, and Harry had these fluffy curls. If you finish before your return time…”  
Eggsy perks up a bit.  
He does get a chance to see young Harry and Merlin. It blows his mind to think that they were once so young and fresh. Especially Merlin.  
*  
“What’s this for?” Eggsy asks as Merlin passes him a notebook.  
“We’re going to see how badly ye all fucked up,” Merlin explains, “Each agent will be assigned a museum. Ye will all examine the artworks and see if any of your brethren appear in them. If they do, ye will photograph it and fill out the chart. We will then add it to the list of other appearances.”  
“And if an agent does not show up in any piece of art, they will receive a reward.”  
“What reward?” Eggsy asks intrigued, even though he knows he won’t win.  
“A bespoke outfit, of your choosing, and a weekend away in Paris,” Merlin answers.  
“You don’t have the authority to grant a weekend off,” Harry points out, clutching his notebook.  
“Considering you lead with your face showing up in 6 paintings, maybe ye shut up?” Merlin suggests.  
“You are in two!” Harry snapped back.  
“Wait, Merlin wasn’t joking, he has gone back?” Eggsy stares at Merlin with all new respect. “Did you stab someone with a darning needle?” he jokes.  
The older agents groan and Pilar snickers. Merlin hands his camera and notebook to Hamish the Second and goes to the wall with the metal throwing spot on it. He opens a panel and yanks out a claymore and swings it easily about twisting and turning until it rests against Eggsy’s neck. “Three missions,” Merlin says. “Issues during certain skirmishes over certain borders.”  
“He was banned from going on anymore because he had a slight issue getting a little stabby about Englishmen on Scottish soil,” Harry explains. “Became a bit of a folk legend, there is a poem or two, and a few paintings.”  
Eggsy was staying very still. He’s not sure why he always has to be the one Merlin is threatening.  
“You’re the guv, Merlin,” he says.  
Merlin smiles and pulls the sword away. “I am. Now to your museums and none of you better show up in any art.”  
8 hours later Merlin and his team were running the data and then called in the Kingsman. “Congratulations, Owain, you didn’t appear in anything.”  
“No way was I in anything,” Gawain complains.  
Liz runs a clip from the show Vikings. “Please tell me that this character isn’t based on a historical record that awfully matches a description of you?”  
Gawain gives a winning smile, but none were moved.  
“I would be happy to assist Owain with his reward,” Hamish the Second announces formally.  
“Very well,” Merlin agrees. “And ye have a weekend off as well, because of all the hard work you have done.”  
Owain bounces on his toes. “Hey look, we both have a weekend off.”  
“We do indeed,” Hamish the Second agrees.  
Merlin hustles everyone out of the room.  
“Why don’t none of you wingman like that for me?” Eggsy asks. “I feel like this was rigged.”  
“Newspaper article 1896, your face appears in a crowd sketch,” Pilar says. “Noticeable because -”  
“Because I have modern face.”  
“Come on, Eggsy, we’ll go to a club, wingman for each other,” Roxy offers.  
“You’re the best,” Eggsy says. “Harry, you want to come along find a shag?” Everyone stops dead and looks at Eggsy. “What?”  
“Eggsy, if I want a shag, I just ask my husband, as I have done for the last 15 years,” Harry says slowly.  
Eggsy blinks. “You ain’t married.”  
“Okay, technically not, but we refer to each other as husband.”  
“Who?”  
“Good god, ye are a fucking spy,” Merlin mutters. He kisses Harry thoroughly. “And you can absolutely have a shag tonight.”  
“Thank you darling.”  
“Oh my god, this makes other things make so much more sense now,” Eggsy realizes. “I’m a moron.”  
“But pretty,” Roxy says. “It balances out.”  
“Thanks, I think,” Eggsy says.  
*  
The club is a disaster. Roxy looks like she’s having the time of her life. She’s dancing pressed up between a man and woman around her age. They look amazing together under the sparkling light.  
No matter how hard Eggsy tries, though, he can’t get his mind off of Jesse. He feels like shit for just abandoning him in the hospital like that. Even if he couldn’t stay because his life was in 2017.  
A young woman sidles up to him, and gives him a small smile, “Want to dance?”  
He can see Roxy winking at him from across the dance floor. He doesn’t want her hard work to go to waste so he smiles back and lets himself be lead into the heaving mass of people.  
He leaves after the song is finished.  
He wanders the streets of London for a while. He’s too wired to go home and he can’t think of where to go next. He stops in at a Sainsbury’s and buys some crisps to snack on as he walks.  
Eventually he finds himself in front of the tailor shop. He is struck with an overwhelming urge to go to the gym and beat the shit out of a punching bag. So he digs his set of keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door. He scans his thumb print to deactivate the alarm and reset it. Then he heads for the bullet train.  
HQ is deserted. There’s usually the hum of people coming and going at all hours, but because they caught up to all the unscrambled coordinates of Chester and Valentine’s agents no one is rushing off on last minute errands. All that can be heard is the soft thrum from the gate.  
Eggsy heads for his office first. That’s where he keeps his gym clothes. The hallways are almost creepy this late at night. They’re unsettling enough as it is in the day time. He has a feeling that the halls are haunted by the agents who never made it home.  
He almost misses the light on in Merlin’s office because he’s so lost in thought. He knocks on the door and Merlin jumps nearly a mile.  
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses, “Ye scared the shit out of me.”  
“Sorry,” Eggsy murmurs, “I guess I just wanted to see what you were doing here.”  
“That is none of your business.” Merlin grumbles.  
“Right. Sorry.” Eggsy apologizes and starts the walk to his office again. Then he pauses. Merlin might be the one person he can actually talk to. He turns back around and returns to Merlin’s office.  
“What now?” Merlin groans.  
“I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.” Eggsy says softly.   
Merlin doesn't even look up from his computer, “Can't Ye bother Harry with this?”  
“No. I think I made a huge mistake and I don't wanna disappoint Harry again. I know you don't like me so it won't bother me as much when I let you down.”  
Something Eggsy said must have drawn Merlin’s attention because he looks up from his computer with a frown.   
“Close the door.” Merlin instructs.   
Eggsy closes the door behind him and sits down in the chair opposite Merlin.   
“What makes Ye think I don't like you?” Merlin asks softly.   
“You get pissed at me when I ask you to handle my gate. Whenever I try to talk to anyone in outfitting you all just yell at me about destroying clothes even though Gawain and Bors destroy more. I can't open my mouth without you groaning, glaring, or being short with me. Some days I get all three. Anyway that's not why I'm here. I--”  
“If ye think I don't like ye, then why do ye trust me to bring ye home safely?” Merlin asks  
“I figure you're not that unprofessional. You brought me home when Roxy and I went after chester’s agent the first time. You'd do it again. Besides I'm like eighty percent sure that Roxy and Harry would kill you if you left me stranded in the past to live to death.” Eggsy explains.   
Merlin sits back in his chair, suddenly serious.   
“I'm sorry Eggsy,” he says softly, “I didn't realize that I was taking this out on ye. I think having Harry stranded terrified me more than I cared to admit. Ye became an easy target for me and it was unfair of me to make ye feel like he weren't welcome here. I do respect you.”  
Eggsy’s heart clenches painfully. He wants Merlin to like him so badly but he has a feeling that it won't last.   
“You don't have to say that. I know I can be a bit of a pain in the ass. Not everyone needs to like me.”  
“Lets start over Eggsy. If ye will let me.” Merlin says.   
“Alright. Sure. Clean slate.” Eggsy agrees, just to get the conversation to move along.   
“Now what was this about a mistake?”  
“Right. I um… shit bruv. I think I fell in love with a bloke from 2004.”  
Merlin pauses as if waiting for more information. When it isn't forthcoming, he frowns again and shakes his head, “I fail to see the problem. Ye can just look him up online and while we don't usually allow agents access to social media I'm sure I can code a Facebook for ye so that whoever this bloke is can't share your information.”  
“No Merlin. I'm not talking about 2004 when I was fifteen. I'm talking about 2004 from a few weeks back. The bloke I saved from the car wreck.” Eggsy explains.   
“Oh.” Merlin says softly.   
“Oh.” Eggsy agrees.   
“Well ye could still look him up.”  
“But how would I explain why I still look 24 when he's pushing 40 now?” Eggsy asks  
“Plastic surgery?” Merlin suggests   
“No plastic surgeon is this good,” Eggsy dismisses, “Fuck. I don't know what to do.”  
“There's nothing much ye can do except try to get a leg over at a bar and hope that he fades from memory.” Merlin replies “I just have one question.”  
“Yeah?”  
“How did ye fall in love? Ye only knew him for five minutes.” Merlin asks.   
“I kinda slept with him the night before.” Eggsy answers, wishing his seat would just swallow him whole.   
“What?” Merlin shouts “Why didn't ye include that in your mission report?”  
“I didn't want to give you another reason to hate me.”


	8. 1604

“Excuse me,” Merlin stares at Eggsy, eyebrow raised “You need to do what now?”  
“Look, Harry’s the one who hands out the assignments, I’m just following orders.” Eggsy says and stands in the middle of the room where Merlin can’t reach him.. “Look at your computer.”  
“No, unacceptable.” Merlin crosses his arms.  
“What? Why?” Eggsy protests and leans forward imploringly, “Come on guv.”  
“You have modern face,” Merlin grumbles. There’s a general consensus from the others working away in the sewing room. Most murmur in agreement.  
“I have no bloody clue what that means,” Eggsy says after a minute.  
“Ye look too modern to go back to…1604? Harry wants me to send ye to 1604 with three days notice?” Merlin scowls and turns around, clearly looking for something and as Eggsy watches one of the women puts a weight in his hand and Merlin throws it against the wall. It made a hell of a clang since one section had a big metal plate on it, clearly put there for when Merlin needed to throw something. “1604, ye haven’t been fitted for anything before the gilded age and I even objected to that.”  
“Because I have modern face,” Eggsy surmises.  
“Exactly,” Merlin agrees. He stalks over to the wall and pulls a book off one of the shelves. He opens it and flips through the photos. “See Arthur, period face. Bedivere, period face. Gawain modern unless it is vikings. Me period until late middle ages then modern. Hamish the Second there, exquisite period face. Owain modern face.”  
“Huh, I woulda thought Owain had period face,” Eggsy remarks, but then he thinks about it. He starts putting Owain in period clothes and it comes out all wrong. “Oh jesus he would look so wrong in a cravat.” Eggsy says, starting to put it all together, “Roxy has like super period face. She looks like a Gibson girl.”  
“Aye, I could dress her in anything and it would look astonishing and perfect,” Merlin sighs dreamily and his whole team nods in agreement again. “But she also has a sensitive stomach and eating earlier than Regency era is problematic, even with the drugs we load ye with.” Merlin sighs again. “Picture her at Versailles.” A collective sigh goes up around the room.  
“Yeah well I have a cast iron stomach, and an ear for dialect. You bloody trained me. I even manage the bloody great vowel shift. I never sound out of place.”  
“But you look it!” Merlin says indignantly. “And three days to outfit you?” Merlin looks at the briefing. “In winter. I’m sending you to Elizabethan winter. I need to go murder Arthur. Excuse me.” Merlin grabs his pinking shears off the table and storms for the door.  
“Sir, might I suggest the leather shears?” Hamish the Second calls out.  
“No, they wouldn’t hurt as much as these,” Merlin snarls and officially storms out of the sewing room.  
Pilar arrives at Eggsy’s elbow. “Well then, get naked.”  
“Excuse me?” Eggsy automatically covers his junk.  
“Hose, Galahad,” she says in her soft lilt. “If I am to measure ye for hose, I need you naked.”  
“You said ye,” Eggsy points out.  
“We spend up to 14 hours a day working in this room with Merlin, we all pick up the vocal tics.” Liz calls from where she is prepping an Edwardian suit for Taliesin. “Sounds neat layered with Pilar’s Mexican accent.” Liz returns to the hem. “Scottish cursing does not translate well into Hindi but I keep trying.”  
Eggsy watches Hamish the Second go to a door and open it. “Fucking hell,” he says getting a glimpse. It wasn’t like any of the closests that housed the clothes for specific agents, this closet is massive. It takes up almost half the floor.  
“What, you didn’t think there was a reason we ask you not to fuck up your clothes if at all possible?” Pilar asks. Eggsy isn’t moving quick enough for her liking apparently and she tries to take her shears to his trackies. He bats her hands away. Hamish eventually returns with a rack of Elizabethan clothes that maybe they could adjust for him.   
Eggsy is about to protest about the lack of privacy but Pilar taps her shears very firmly against his nose. Eggsy grumbles to himself but still strips out of his trackies and tee shirt to let them do their work. An hour later he is pinned into the most uncomfortable thing ever when Merlin returns looking a lot more mellow than when he left.  
“Good work,” Merlin congratulates his team. Hamish the Second and Liz exchange a look. He inspects Eggsy and the wardrobe choice. “The green didn’t work?” he asks  
“1604, not 1601, remember?” Pilar reminds him around the pins in her mouth.  
“What’s the difference?” Eggsy asks, genuinely curious. If one could die from a look, he would melt from the heat of the glares he is receiving. “Sorry?”  
“It’s okay,” Pilar smiles prettily. “If you want to have rotten meat thrown at you, by all means wear the clothes from 1601.”  
“I’m going to be quiet.”  
“A good call lad,” Merlin agrees. “And don’t worry, Pilar will pad out the codpiece enough so you don’t have to feel embarrassed.”  
Eggsy opens his mouth to bitch but considering where Pilar had her needles, he decides to just smile.  
As they walk down the hall to get to the gate, Eggsy turns on Merlin with a scowl.  
“You know, Merlin, if you actually want to start over and be friends you can’t say shit like that.”  
“I’m sorry?” Merlin asks, jerking to a halt.  
“The other night you said you wanted a clean slate. Well part of a clean slate is not being an absolute prick to me. Not being a prick to me includes not making jokes about my dick, and also not letting your team be rude to me.”   
“They weren’t being rude,” Merlin defends, “They speak like that to everyone.”  
“Really? Because I’ve been in there at the same time both Bors and Gwaine were being fitted. Pilar, and Michael not only didn’t bully them and threaten to stick pins in their junk, they laughed at their stupid fucking jokes,” Eggsy says, “I ain’t a moron Merlin. Don’t insult us both by treating me like one. And I swear to god if you tell me to ‘get that chip of your shoulder’ right now, I will punch you and ask Morgana to handle my gate.”   
Merlin falls silent. Eggsy has never made him fall silent before. Even if what comes out of Merlin’s mouth next is that he’s going to tell Harry about Eggsy’s gross insubordination, it will have been worth it.  
Really he can’t figure out why the behavior is suddenly bothering him so much. It’s not like they haven’t done this exact same thing before now. Maybe it’s because he opened up about Jesse the other night. He just can’t take anymore crap from anyone right now. His blood is thrumming beneath his skin, and he can feel his heart hammering in his chest.  
“I’m sorry,” Merlin says finally, “I’ll talk to them about it.”  
*  
It is so fucking cold, Eggsy can’t feel the tip of his nose. All around him ice hangs off rooftops in thick icicles that measure nearly a foot in length. There’s a few drifts of snow on the ground but mostly everything is ice. He’s astonished that there are even lights spilling out of the homes in the town. It seems like in this weather the houses would be frozen through.  
He’s not getting anywhere tonight. The road is bound to be dangerous, and with his luck he would fall right through a frozen lake and drown.  
He heads for the nearest home and knocks on the door, praying someone will answer. If he spends one more second in the wind he’ll freeze into a block of ice.  
The door swings open and issues some much needed warmth onto Eggsy. There’s a young girl standing there. She can’t be more than seven years old. Eggsy smiles kindly at her and crouches down to her level so she won’t feel intimidated.  
“Excuse me miss,” he says politely, “May I enter while you fetch your parents? I only need to warm myself.”  
The little girl nods and disappears into the house. Eggsy closes the door behind himself to keep anymore warmth from spilling out.  
The little girl returns moments later with her father. He isn’t much older than Eggsy really.  
“How can I help you sir?” the father asks, tucking his daughter behind his legs.  
“I was on my way to court when my horse fell lame. If you would allow me to impose upon your kindness, I would return the favor with coin. I have little left after my journey but I would not want to put a man out.” Eggsy explains.  
The father considers it carefully for several long moments, then nods “Very well. You may stay.”  
“Thank you kind sir. You will receive payment come morning. You have my word.” Eggsy says.  
The father nods again, then ushers his daughter to her bed behind a curtain.  
Eggsy settles down in front of the fire, and sheds some of the layers he was wearing. It warms him through in time.  
*  
Eggsy is too late to stop the other agent. He spots him at the court of King James just in time to see a gate opened. The agent steps through before Eggsy can catch him.   
Eggsy’s heart skips a beat. Without an agent to tail, he’s at a loss for what to do. He needs to fix whatever the agent changed but Eggsy doesn’t have clue as to what that could be.  
They assumed that the agent would be after the king. James is inside, alive and well.   
He’s stuck in 1604 until he figures out what went wrong.  
*  
He bounces off somebody on the street and offers an apology. His mind is spinning, desperate to connect the dots. No one has seen the agent. When he describes a man with a rust colored beard, he’s looked at like he’s raving mad. It describes nearly half the town apparently.  
“Excuse me sir.” a voice calls out, pulling Eggsy out of his manic scramble for answers.   
Eggsy turns and sees the man he bounced off of moments ago.  
“Yes?” Eggsy asks, tone clipped.  
“I wondered if I might ask you a question, and whether you would do me the honor of answering in kind.” the man says.  
Eggsy fights the urge to roll his eyes. He wishes he had pockets to cram his hands into. It’s always easier to hide clenched fists in pockets.  
“Ask away good sir. Though I cannot promise you an answer.” Eggsy responds.  
“Of course,” the man agrees, “You see it is like so. I am an artist. Your face catches the light in a way that I have not seen before. I wish you would do me the favor of capturing it in oils.”  
“I am afraid I cannot grant your request today. I am in a hurry.” Eggsy responds, eager to get a move on. He has a few more houses to hit. He may come up with nothing, but better to grasp at straws than grasp at nothing.  
“Of course,” the man agrees and tips his hat to Eggsy, “I thank you for your time.”  
*  
“I would ask Mr. Oliver,” the woman says and hefts a tub of laundry up on her hip, “He seems to know the most gossip around here.”  
Eggsy could kiss her from joy, “Would you be able to tell me where Mr. Oliver lives?”  
“Not far,” the woman assures him, “About a ten minute walk towards the west end of town.”  
Eggsy thanks her profusely and sets off for the west end of town. Every so often he stops people to ask for directions. Finally he finds the house everyone has been describing. He darts forward and knocks loudly on the front door.  
Mr. Oliver opens the door and Eggsy just fights back a wince. Just his luck. Mr. Oliver is the man he bumped into on the street. At least he doesn’t look upset with Eggsy for rejecting his offer earlier.  
“How may I help you?” Mr. Oliver asks.  
“I am afraid I must impose upon your kindness,” Eggsy says, “I am in search of a man. I have heard talk around the village that you were the one to ask about goings on.”  
Mr. Oliver steps to the side and ushers Eggsy in.  
“If I can aid you on your quest it is my duty to help.” Mr. Oliver says.  
“I thank you,” Eggsy says warmly, “The man I am searching for is taller than most, and he has a beard the color of rust.  
Mr. Oliver’s face darkens as if a cloud has passed over it. He frowns deeply and nods, “I know the man of whom you speak. He destroyed near a year’s worth of work.”  
“A year’s worth of work?” Eggsy asks for clarification.  
Mr. Oliver walks away but beckens Eggsy to follow. They enter another room and Mr. Oliver gestures to the sheer destruction littering the ground. Canvas with a few layers of paint , is shredded to ribbons on the ground. The wooden frame still sits proudly on the easel.  
“His majesty the king commissioned me to complete a painting. It was meant as a gift for the Kings of Germany. To encourage trade relations between our countries, and .”  
Eggsy’s mind spins at the reveal. Diplomatic relations are meant to be strong. After all, the Hanseatic League traded with England often, and the royal families intermarried. If this painting was meant to keep relations smooth, it is no wonder the agent destroyed it. A rough relationship could spark world war one, three hundred years early.   
“What ever will you do now that it has been destroyed,” Eggsy asks, “Surely you can paint another.”  
“I am afraid I cannot replace it. I had become sick to death of it already, and it still required more paint. To start again would surely drive me mad,” Mr. Oliver explains, “His majesty will just have to forgive me.”  
“Forgive me sir,” Eggsy says, “But if you do not complete such painting does that not mean that tensions might flair between our fair nation and theirs?”  
“It could but I do not see how I could create another painting in its image.” Mr. Oliver shakes his head sorrowfully.  
“Perhaps you could find a news source for inspiration?” Eggsy suggests, already waiting for what comes next.  
“I am afraid I have little inspiration in my life. You, sir, were the last of it.” Mr. oliver explains.  
Eggsy takes a deep breath, and says through gritted teeth, “Then I suppose I should do what is best for my nation and my king.”  
Mr. Oliver brightens significantly and smiles hopefully at Eggsy, “Does that mean, sir, that you will allow me to capture your likeness after all?”  
“Only if you will do me the favor of making it the commission you were meant to give to his majesty.” Eggsy responds. He’s not going to spend a year in 1604 just to let this quack of an artist paint him. He needs to keep history the same.  
“You have my word.” Mr. Oliver swears.  
He sets about gathering his things; canvas, charcoals, paints. He mutters to himself the whole time, trying to come up with a reason to paint Eggsy other than professional curiosity.  
“I believe Ganymede suits,” he says finally, “If you would be so kind as to remove your clothes and settle over by the window.”  
Eggsy does as instructed and Mr. Oliver flutters about the room until he returns with props. He drapes airy fabric across Eggsy’s lap, and passes him a goblet. He guides Eggsy into the light with gentle touches. When he’s satisfied, he darts behind his canvas and gets to work.  
*  
Eggsy recognizes the painting when it’s completed. In four hundred years, it will hang in the National Gallery in London and two little boys will argue about whether or not it looks like him.  
*  
The gate makes its usual shlunk-whirr noise as it closes behind him. He never thought he would be so relieved to arrive at work. The familiar thrum of technology fills his ears.  
He turns to greet Merlin, and is startled when he isn't the one standing there.  
“Morgana? Where’s Merlin?” he asks.  
Morgana bites her lip then says, “He’s in a meeting. It’s really better if they explain it all. They want you upstairs.”  
“What? Now?” Eggsy asks, “Can I change first? I’ve been dressed like a fucking Shakespeare extra for almost a year now.”  
“Fine. But you better make it quick,” Morgana says, “Merlin and Arthur called in all agents.”  
Eggsy begins stripping right there at the gate, while hopping in the general direction of outfitting, “How long have I been gone?”  
“About twenty-four hours,” Morgana answers and takes pity on him, “Here let me help.”  
Together they get everything unbuttoned, and Eggsy makes it to outfitting. He changes into his jeans and shirt --and jesus they’re comfortable in comparison-- then he drapes the Elizabethan clothes across one of the tables. Apparently this meeting was important enough that even all of outfitting is in attendance.  
Eggsy heads for the elevator and takes it straight to the third floor. He finds the conference room Morgana told him about and knocks on the door. Harry tells him to come in and Eggsy pushes the door open.  
“Ah Galahad. It’s good that you came when you did,” Harry says as Eggsy enters, “I need to introduce you to… our American cousins. These are Agents Ginger, and Tequila.” He gestures to two people that Eggsy didn’t notice when he walked in.  
He smiles politely at the older black woman in glasses and she smiles back equally as polite. Then he turns to smile at the man standing next to her, and his heart leaps into his mouth.  
“Jesse?”


	9. 1866

“Wait. That’s Jesse?” Merlin asks and points an accusing finger at Agent Tequila.  
“You know each other?” Harry asks, completely baffled.  
“Met Eggsy in 2004.” Agent Tequila offers by way of explanation.  
“So you must have been, what, twenty-four and fifteen at the time? How on earth did you two meet?” Harry asks, voice going stubbornly upper class like it does whenever he is stressed.  
“Not 2004 from thirteen years ago, at least not for me,” Eggsy explains awkwardly, “It was 2004 from my mission a few months ago.”  
“And how does Merlin know him?” Harry asks  
“Don’t worry about it Arthur, I’m sure everything will be explained later. Right now,” Merlin turns to Agent Tequila and Agent Ginger, “I believe the two of ye were about to explain why you’re here.”  
“Of course,” Ginger says quickly and steps forward holding onto her tablet for dear life, “Someone destroyed our base of operations,” she explains and sends the satellite images to the screen, “As y’all can see here, whoever destroyed it burnt it from the inside out. We would say it was a run of the mill arson case, but something odd happened.”  
She swipes to the next image in her tablet. Merlin frowns and leans in for a better look.  
“Is that your gate?” he asks.  
It is nearly unrecognizable. The metal of the arch is melted and twisted in on itself. Bits of circuitry litter the floor around it. The computers aren't pictured but Eggsy assumes that with this level of damage they’re destroyed as well.   
“It is,” Ginger answers, “Whoever burnt down the statesmen, closed our tear.”  
“I’m not arguing,” Eggsy says quickly, not wanting to be rude to their guests, “But ain’t that like impossible? The tears were there before we were. Shouldn’t they be there until long after the universe dies?”  
“Exactly,” Ginger agrees, “We believe that somehow, someone from the future was sent back with the technology to manipulate space time. Far more advanced than just being able to harness it to travel back in time.”  
“And ye think whoever created this is trying to destroy Statesman?” Harry asks.  
“We don’t see what else it could be sir,” Tequila chimes in finally, “In all honesty none of us at Statesman would be upset about being destroyed. No rifts, no manipulating history. But if whoever is doing this is closing the rifts with enemy agents still trapped in the past…”  
“There would be no way to stop history from changing and wiping out the world as we know it.” Eggsy finishes.  
Tequila nods in agreement. A deathly silence falls across the room. No one knows what to say. All this fighting could be rendered useless at any second, and none of them would even know it had happened.  
“Alright,” Harry says and breaks the silence, “Our new objective is combining our data in order to learn more about who we’re fighting. As we work on that, we will continue to send agents back to times when we are certain there are enemy agents waiting. Dismissed.”  
Everyone clears out of the conference room. The only people left are Ginger and Tequila, presumably working out their arrangements.  
Eggsy pushes the door open to let himself out but Harry calls, “Just one minute Eggsy. I want to discuss something with you.”  
Eggsy stops, then turns around to face Harry. “What’s up Arthur?”  
“We decided, while you were away, that you should be paired with Agent Tequila for your upcoming missions. At least for a while.” Harry explains  
“What? Why am I getting paired up?” Eggsy asks, nose crunching in annoyance.  
“It’s not just you. We have decided that every mission requires a historian.” Harry explains.  
“So is Roxy getting paired up?”  
“No,” Harry answers but rushes to clarify before Eggsy can protest, “But only because Roxy has a history degree. She is her own historian.”  
“Then who else is getting paired up?” Eggsy asks, crossing his arms.  
“Bors for one. Lucy has recently been approved for field work. We would have sent Gwaine but…” Harry trails off with a knowing look  
“It woulda been a disaster.” Eggsy finishes. He shrugs and turns to Tequila with a smile, hoping that he isn’t too pissed about Mexico, “Guess We’re partners now.”  
“Guess we are.” Tequila agrees  
“Good,” Harry says, “Now that that’s all settled I suppose we should discuss where to house you both in the meantime.”  
“Y’all don’t have to do that,” Tequila says, “Ginger and I know how to take care of ourselves.”  
“Just let us find places for you. We house all of our agents.” Harry says, exasperated.  
“That would be nice. Thank you.” Ginger says before Tequila can stick his foot in his mouth again.  
Eggsy opens the door and slips out. He doesn’t need to be there while they discuss housing arrangements. Unless they decide to cram Jesse --Tequila-- into his spare bedroom in his flat.  
He shoves his hands in his pockets and starts to head out for the day. Then the conference room door opens behind him.   
“Now just wait a minute,” someone calls, “You and I ain’t done talking.”  
Eggsy turns and tries not to grimace when he sees Jesse. He had a feeling that a conversation like this would go down.  
“Hey.” Eggsy says awkwardly.  
Tequila barrels up to him and comes to a stop, “So. How long has it been for you?”   
“A little over a year,” Eggsy answers, “I was stuck in 1604 for a while.”  
“And you never went to Berkeley, did you?” Tequila asks.  
“Nope. Didn’t actually go to uni.” Eggsy says  
“So if you never went to college, you certainly didn’t study geography.”  
“I didn’t…”   
“And you’re british?”  
“Yup.” Eggsy responds and rocks back and forth on his heels.  
“Is there anything you told me that was true?” Jesse, Tequila, demands.  
“My name.” Eggsy responds and tries to smile charmingly like he does when Roxy is irritated. Tequila, Jesse, doesn’t buy it.  
“How’m I supposed to trust someone that lied about everything just to get into bed with me?” he asks.  
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Eggsy says quickly, “I figured I’d be one of like a thousand spring break hookups.”  
“Funny, I still didn’t lie about who I was for a hookup.” Tequila points out.  
“That’s fair.” Eggsy admits  
“And it ain’t just that. You fucking saved my life. You pulled me out of a burning car, got me to a hospital, and made sure I got help. Then you just vanished! You weren’t on MySpace, or Facebook when it got popular. I couldn’t find you but I owed you everything.” Tequila hisses, probably trying not to draw attention to their little spat.  
“Guess we figured out why that agent was after you. You were gonna become a Statesman and they didn’t want their plans fucked up. And the car wasn’t burning when I pulled you out. It went up after I called an ambulance.” Eggsy says.  
Now that they’re up close. Eggsy can see how Jesse has changed over the last few years. His face is more defined now. The goatee is gone, thank god, and he’s grown his hair out. It’s a much better look on him.  
What isn’t a good look on him, is the look of disgust he gives Eggsy. He shakes his head, turns on his heel, and stalks away down the hall. His boots barely making a sound on the floor because the soles are so worn.  
Eggsy feels like absolute crap.  
*  
“Where did they go this time?” Eggsy asks as he arrives in outfitting.  
He got a text stating that he was needed for an emergency travel. Which means whatever agent went back, went back recently. This could be their chance to get more information on who they’re working for.  
“St. Louis, Missouri. 1866,” Pilar calls, “We laid out your clothes over in changing.”  
She’s busy measuring Lucy for clothes to go in the field. The others in outfitting are all hunched over their machines.  
Eggsy heads for the changing room. Tequila is already there. He’s buttoning a shirt, and judging by the cut it’s because he got called in for the emergency jump as well.  
Eggsy stops a few lockers down from him and starts to change as well. Tequila ignores him entirely. It’s kind of tense.  
Eggsy tugs his tee shirt off, then sits on the bench to yank off his trainers. He glances sideways at Tequila but he’s still ignoring Eggsy entirely. Eggsy focuses on changing. When he gets down to putting on the suspenders, and Tequila still hasn’t registered his existence, Eggsy finally slams the locker closed and turns to face him.  
“Jesse?” he asks, trying to get his attention.  
“Tequila.” Tequila responds.  
“What?” Eggsy asks.  
Tequila slams his locker closed as well, and turns to face Eggsy, “Tequila is my codename. I ain’t been called Jesse since I joined. Twelve years ago.”  
“Alright,” Eggsy agrees, “Tequila. Are we good?”  
“Don’t know what you mean.” Tequila says stubbornly.  
“Look, you can be pissed at me all you want. But are we good to go out in the field? We gotta trust each other or it’ll all go to shit. You know that.” Eggsy says  
Tequila sighs and nods, “We’re good.”  
“Thanks bruv.” Eggsy says and slaps the hat on his head.  
They both emerge from changing and head for the gate. Merlin is waiting for them.  
The gate whirrs to life, and they step through.  
St.Louis looks like a town straight out of a western. Roads made of worn cobble stone, or made entirely out of hard packed dirt. All of the businesses and homes have clapboard siding. Horses are tied up outside of a bar. The one thing he didn’t expect is the massive snow drifts settled across the entire town.   
“So. What are we looking for?” Eggsy asks  
“Can’t be sure. Old West was rampant with outlaws. Any one of them could come riding through here.” Tequila responds  
“So basically we’re hoping we see something suspicious?” Eggsy asks  
“Or we hope someone important comes riding through.” Tequila says.  
Eggsy tilts his head towards the bar, “Buy you a drink?”  
“Might be a good place to find people.” Tequila agrees and leads the way inside.  
It’s about what Eggsy expected. Men drinking and gambling. Prostitutes giggling and flirting from across the room.  
“Holy shit.” Tequila says.  
“What? What’s going on?” Eggsy asks, already looking around for whatever agent Tequila could have spotted.  
“That prostitute. She’s Big Nose Kate .” Tequila responds and nods towards one of the girls. Eggsy doesn’t think her nose is that big.  
“No idea who that is.” Eggsy says  
“She becomes the common law wife of Doc Holliday. Real name: Mary Katherine Horony-Cummings.” Tequila responds.  
“Okay. You keep saying these names like I know who they are.” Eggsy says  
“How do you not know Doc Holliday? Do you know Wyatt Earp?” Tequila asks and Eggsy shakes his head, “There’s literally a tv show based on them. Wynonna Earp?” Eggsy still doesn’t recognize the name, “You really don’t know them?”  
“If you can tell me who Eustace Folville is, then you can bug me about not knowing them.” Eggsy says  
“I don’t know who that is.” Tequila admits  
“There we go.” Eggsy says and makes his way over to the bar. He lets Tequila order the drinks considering how much he knows about the old west.   
They stand by the bar and sip their drinks. It’s not the worst he’s ever had but it does kind of taste like he’s drinking antiseptic.  
“Hang on,” Eggsy says and stands up properly, “I know that bloke.”  
“Which one?” Tequila asks  
“The one following Mary upstairs right now,” Eggsy says, “He’s the agent that got away from me in 1604. I had to sit for a portrait for a year because of that fucker.”  
“If he’s going upstairs with Mary …” Tequila starts  
“He might be planning on killing her.” Eggsy finishes the thought.  
They glance at each other. Then they simultaneously bolt off the bar stools. They clatter upstairs just in time to see Mary disappear into her room.  
“He cannot kill her. She’s the one who’s supposed to introduce Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday.” Tequila says  
“And what happens then?” Eggsy asks  
“They’re supposed to be lawmen. Without them whoever is sending these agents could cause a crime wave to sweep the west, with themselves running it. It means that they’re in the perfect place to build the government from the ground up.” Tequila answers  
“What happens if we bust in there and this bloke just happens to look similar to the other guy from a distance, and we aren’t actually saving her life?”  
“My best guess is that she screams for whatever security they got themselves here, and we’re chased out. Leaving her behind for the actual agent.”  
“Do the doors have locks?” Eggsy asks  
“What? Why in god damn hell would that be important right now?” Tequila asks  
“If there aren’t any locks then we can ease the door open and see if he’s gonna shoot her. If we’re wrong no one gets chased out, if we’re right then we’ll know to save her.” Eggsy explains.  
Tequila turns and tries the door across the hall. It swings open without a hitch. Eggsy turns back to Mary’s door, and eases it open silently.  
Mary is sitting with her back to the headboard. The agent is standing next to the bed, fiddling with his trousers. So far no sign of violence.  
Eggsy eases the door closed again, and turns to Tequila with a shrug.They must still be waiting on the other agent.  
Then Mary lets out a startled shout. Eggsy eases the door open a little, then swings it open full force. The agent has a gun to Mary’s head.  
Without thinking, Eggsy charges him and knocks him off balance. The gun goes skittering away and Tequila grabs it before it can be used against them. Eggsy rolls around on the floor, trying to keep the agent from running.   
He gets a hand on Eggsy’s gun and the struggle intensifies as Eggsy tries to grab it before it can be fired. There’s a loud bang as the gun discharges. The man on top of Eggsy suddenly goes limp.   
Eggsy pushes the body off of him and stands up, gun in hand. He didn’t pull the trigger. He knows he didn’t. The agent must have pulled it on accident in the struggle.  
“M’am. You need to come with us.” Tequila says to Mary.  
“I will do no such thing!” she shouts “You just killed a man in cold blood!”  
“We thought he was going to hurt you.” Tequila reasons but Mary is having none of it.  
She opens her mouth and yells for someone to come quick. It’s enough to snap Eggsy out of it. He doesn’t have time to worry about killing another agent right now. He and Tequila cannot get locked up in Missouri in 1866.  
“Window.” Eggsy says and shoves himself out of the open window next to the headboard.  
Tequila follows hot on his heels. Eggsy jumps from the roof, and lands lightly on the boardwalk below. Tequila follows suit but lands far more heavily.  
Behind them there is shouting and chaos. Whoever Big Nose Kate called for, they aren’t giving up. There’s the unmistakable sound of a gunshot ratcheting.  
“Ever ridden a horse?” Tequila asks.  
“No! I’m a poor boy from London! Of course I haven’t ridden a horse!” Eggsy shouts  
“Well you’re gonna ride one now.” Tequila says as the first gunshot ricochets off a table outside.  
He unwraps the reins tethering the horse to the peg, and mounts it easily. He holds his hand out to Eggsy and pulls him up behind. Eggsy clutches tight to Tequila’s waist, and the horse sets off at a gallop.  
*  
He cabin they find is run down. Boards are hanging off the side, shingles are missing from the roof in large patches, there is no front door. Still it’s as good a place to stop as any now that they’ve managed to ditch the people following them.  
Tequila dismounts, then helps Eggsy get down without hurting himself or the horse.  
“We should activate the rings to get home,” Eggsy says and digs his hands into the pockets of his coat, “Fuck. I can’t find mine.”  
“We’ll find them in the morning.” Tequila reassures him and heads off for the cabin.  
“Oi! Where’re you going?” Eggsy asks and runs after him.  
“Inside. We ain’t gonna find either of our rings in the dark. We just need to camp out here until first light,” Tequila answers, “And it’s good we stay in case there’re more agents.”  
They set up camp with blankets from the saddlebags on the stolen horse. Tequila takes the mildew-y bed in one corner of the house, and Eggsy sets up on the least rotten patch of floor he can find.  
*  
He can’t sleep. The wind is howling through the gaps in the frame of the house, and no matter how tight a ball Eggsy curls up in he still shivers.  
He blows on his hands a bit, trying to warm them up.  
“You still awake?” Tequila calls softly.  
“Yeah.” Eggsy answers.  
The bed creaks. The floor creaks. It takes a second for Eggsy to realize Tequila is walking towards him.  
“You’re gonna freeze trying to sleep on the floor.” Tequila says.  
Eggsy sits up and wraps the blankets around himself, “It ain’t that bad.”  
Tequila rolls his eyes and shakes his head, then holds his hand out for Eggsy, “Come on.”  
Eggsy takes it and hauls himself to his feet. Tequila leads the way to the bed and, after much cursing from the cold, settle with all of the blankets piled across both of them.  
They’re quiet for a while, too cold for conversation. Just when Tequila might be drifting off, Eggsy says “I’m sorry about Mexico.”  
Tequila snuffles fully awake and squints at Eggsy through the darkness, “Sorry?”  
“I’m sorry about Mexico,” Eggsy repeats, “I didn’t think you’d give a fuck about some random guy you fucked. And I didn’t know I was gonna save your life. I thought I was there for the financial meeting. I shouldn’t have lied and said I was from California, yeah?”  
“No you really shouldn’t’ve.” Tequila agrees  
“But you gotta understand, if I said I was from England and kept my accent and shit you would’ve been confused about what I was doing there. I don’t know anyone from England who goes to Mexico for spring break. You coulda asked a lot of questions that backed me into a corner and broke my cover.” Eggsy says  
“Maybe you’re right. If you told me the truth about all this I probably would’ve thought you’d gone bonkers.” Tequila says  
“Still sorry though. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Eggsy apologizes again  
“I know.” Tequila agrees  
They fall silent again for a little while.  
“I thought about you all the time.” Eggsy adds  
“Really?” Tequila asks  
“Yeah. I was worried that I hadn't done enough to keep you safe. That’s how Merlin knew your name. I had to talk to him about it.”  
“At least I wasn’t alone,” Tequila laughs and rolls over to settle in for sleep, “Goodnight Eggsy.”  
“Are we actually good now?” Eggsy asks hopefully  
“Yeah. We’re actually good.”  
*  
Merlin pours Eggsy a glass of scotch then slumps into his desk chair, “How are things going with Tequila?”  
Eggsy shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, “We had a talk while we were in 1866. I think we’re okay.”  
“Ye think or ye know?” Merlin asks  
Eggsy shakes his head and sets his drink down, “He says we’re good but I feel like he’s still pissed and I don’t know why. I get that he feels betrayed but I don’t get why.”  
“If ye agreed to something under false pretenses you’d be furious. I remember how irritated ye got when someone put raisins in the bread they made. Can ye imagine what it would feel like if ye agreed to have sex with someone only to find out they’re a giant raisin?”


	10. 345 BCE

“Jesus. How many moments in history are they gonna change?” Eggsy whines as he enters the conference room.   
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Tequila answers  
Eggsy sighs and drops into the chair next to Tequila. Things have been good with them lately. No more angry outbursts or confrontations concerning Mexico. And after 1866, Tequila has trusted Eggsy’s decisions.   
“Where are headed to Merlin?” Eggsy asks  
“That's the thing. We aren't sure we can let ye go back for this.” Merlin says  
“Why?” Tequila asks  
“Ye won't believe this, they sent an agent back to 345 BCE. Ancient Greece,” Merlin says, “And before ye ask I triple checked my equations and asked Emrys and Morgana to check too.”  
“I didn't think that the gate let us jump that far. The farthest any of us have gone was, what, Vikings? In 1050?” Eggsy says   
“Exactly. We don't know how they did it. They must have boosted the gate’s channeling process. I don't see how they could get their man back though. We had to work hard to get Gawain back when he went to the Vikings. His return signal was so weak the computer categorized it as background noise.” Merlin agrees  
“Can y’all send us back?” Tequila asks  
“Theoretically.” Merlin answers  
“What does theoretically mean?”   
“We’ve been working on the channeling process, trying to get entry more stable. We can send ye back but it will be rough,” Merlin answers, “And there is no guarantee we can get you back.”  
“So we’d be stuck in Ancient Greece.” Eggsy says, finally stating the problem out loud.   
“Yes.” Merlin says  
“I say we go.” Tequila says.   
Eggsy turns to him, eyes wide, “Are you shitting me bruv? You wanna get stuck in Ancient Greece?”  
“No. But we need to go. We can't just chase these agents when it's convenient. I'm a badass. Not an anarchist.” Tequila says  
“Okay but if we get stuck we’re down two agents to combat this.” Eggsy points out  
“You don't have to come with me. I got this.” Tequila replies with a shrug.   
“I'm your partner now. I ain't gonna abandon you.”  
“Then we’ve got ourselves an old fashioned stalemate.” Tequila says and stares Eggsy down.   
Eggsy stares back, determined to make Tequila change his mind.   
“Fuck. Alright. I’ll go,” Eggsy relents, “If we get stuck I’m going to kick your ass.”  
“That's only fair.” Tequila agrees with a smile.   
“Oh don't smirk at me,” Eggsy says and folds his arms across his chest, “I don't wanna live to death in Ancient Greece.”  
“Then let's hope we can get our signal through.”   
Eggsy rolls his eyes, “So you were getting an ancient history degree, what was happening in 345 BCE?”  
“Alexander the Great is storming across the mediterranean. I can’t think of anything else.” Tequila responds   
“So our theory is that they’re planning to kill Alexander the Great?” Eggsy asks  
Tequila shrugs in response, “Best theory we have. I ain’t got a clue what that would do for them though.”  
“Build their own ancient empire?” Eggsy suggests  
“Maybe. They could also be planning to aid one of his enemies. Still don’t know how building an empire that falls by World War One, at the latest if we’re using the Ottomans as a reference, would help.”  
“Guess we’ll just have to find out.”  
They leave the conference room to get outfitted and despite not having talked about mexico in weeks, Eggsy know he has to bring it up one last time. They can’t risk being stuck in Ancient Greece with anything left unsaid between them.  
“Hey Jesse?” he asks before they get to outfitting.  
“Yeah?” Tequila asks absently  
“I’m sorry about mexico.” Eggst says and Tequila stops to give him a look that clearly reads as ‘What the fuck?’  
“What are you talking about?” he asks  
“I know I already apologized because I didn’t like hurting you. But I didn’t really get why you were so angry about it. I get it now though. I’m sorry for tricking you like that and not being more responsible about what it would do to you.”  
Tequila nods and slaps EGgsy’s shoulder lightly, “I forgive you man.”  
*  
Eggsy crashes to the ground with a loud thunk. Next to him he hears Tequila groan. That jump was rough. Merlin was right.   
Usually at most it takes but a second to jump back. This time the swirling blue and oxygen depletion lasted nearly ten seconds. It didn’t leave them with a chance to brace themselves.  
Eggsy rolls onto his back with a grunt and stares up at the sky. He needs a second to catch his breath. He tugs his toga down a bit so that his ass isn't the breeze.   
Eventually they both sit up, and Eggsy helps pull Tequila to his feet.  
“So which way?” he asks.  
“Right now Alexander the Great has set out camp a few miles from the border. If we’re where I think we are then we need to head east. Back towards the center of the empire.” Tequila responds.  
“And East is which way? We ain’t got a compass.” Eggsy asks  
“I'd say it's about three o’clock. We just need to walk in the opposite direction of the sun.” Tequila says  
Eggsy shrugs and follows Tequila’s instructions. He turns his back to the sun and sets off walking.   
“You know,” Eggsy says after a while, “I'm actually really excited about this.”  
“Yeah? How come?” Tequila asks, taking an extra step so he falls in synch with Eggsy’s step.   
“Alexander the Great is gay as shit.” Eggsy responds.   
“What? He ain't gay,” Tequila denies, “I’m the historian here. I'd know. He was married three times. All to women.”  
“I mean. Historians like to say ‘He had a close emotional attachment’ but it's kinda accepted that he and Hephaestion banged and were boyfriends.” Eggsy says  
“Fine. Ten bucks says he's not attracted to Hephaestion and they're just like brothers.” Tequila says  
“You're gonna lose ten quid then bruv.”  
It takes over an hour before they finally see tents pitched in the distance.   
“So what's your plan?” Tequila asks as they approach.   
“Say we got information on Persia?” Eggsy suggests  
“Yeah. That works. But we don't even look a little Greek. How are we gonna cover our barbarian asses?”  
“We escaped the Persians after they captured us while trying to invade? That's why we want to bring them down?” Eggsy suggests  
“Alright. That works.” Tequila agrees and they both fall silent again.   
“Please tell me you speak Ancient Greek.” Eggsy says as the tents loom ever larger and closer.   
“I don't but we’re covered. I learned Latin in high school so that I could translate old scripts myself. Plus R and D gave us these,” Tequila reassures him and passes over a clip on earring, “Microphone in the big pin holding the toga at the shoulder. Translation is sent to the earring. That way you can understand what’s being said.”  
“You're confusing as hell.” Eggsy laughs  
“What's that supposed to mean?”  
“Just that you grew up on a farm, taught yourself Latin, had a stint as a rodeo clown, then went back to get your degree, and then you became a time traveler. It's wild.”  
They finally reach the outskirts of the camp. Unsurprisingly, they're met with a slew of guards. Every single one of them has a spear or sword pointed at them.   
“We come in peace,” Tequila calls out and Eggsy snorts at the reference. Tequila steps on his foot to shut him up, “We have information to give his excellency about the Persians.”  
The guards all glance at each other. It takes them a few seconds to silently debate what to do with these men. Finally one steps forward.  
“How can you know about the Persians?” he asks.  
“My friend and I were caught during an invasion. We escaped. Nothing would make us happier than to win this war.” Tequila explains.  
The guard nods at his fellow guards, and they surround Eggsy and Tequila.  
“We will take you to see him but do not try anything funny.” he instructs.  
They are marched through the camp. Soldiers glance up as they walk by, curious as to what these barbarians are doing here. The smell of cooking food wafts up from the various fires burning around the camp.  
They approach the tent that’s at the dead center of the camp. It’s slightly larger than all the others. It can only be Alexander’s tent.  
The guards come to a halt several feet away. The guard that first approached them brushes aside the tent flap and steps inside. There’s a murmured conversation that Eggsy can’t make out. Then the guard emerges again and nods.  
“He is willing to speak to you.” the guard announces.  
Eggsy and Tequila are let inside.   
Alexander is bent over a table. His dark curly hair shines in the lamp light. He holds up a finger, motioning them to be quiet for one moment. Then he looks up from his maps and turns to them.  
“My soldiers informed me that you have information about the Persians.” he says  
“We do.” Tequila responds.  
Then he lays out as much as he can remember about how Alexander exploited the weakness in the Persian armies. It’s enough to convince Alexander of their legitimacy.  
“Well. I suppose I owe you a favour. You might have just handed me victory.” he says  
Tequila smiles, “It is the least we could do your excellency.”  
“If I can make it up to you, do not hesitate to ask. You can ask for anything.” The way he says ‘anything’, coupled with an appreciative up and down glance of Tequila, makes it clear exactly what he means. Eggsy can’t blame him. Tequila looks great in a toga.  
“Ten quid.” Eggsy says in a sing song voice.  
“What did he say?” Alexander asks  
“You will have to excuse my friend. He only speaks our native tongue. He can understand Latin however.” Tequila explains.  
“That doesn’t answer my question. What did he say?” Alexander demands.  
“Just that our plan to help you worked out better than we hoped” Tequila bullshits.  
Alexander seems to accept that explanation, “I see. Let us get you some food.”  
He steps just outside his tent and ushers over a servant. He says something to the man in Greek but he’s too far away for the microphones in the toga pins to pick it up.   
The servant scuttles off and Alexander returns to them, giving Tequila another appreciative smile, “I thank you for your help. Dine with me tonight as a token of my appreciation.”  
Tequila smiles back and bows deeply. Eggsy follows his example closely. Once Tequila straightens he offers another respectful nod, “We would be honored to dine with you your excellency.”  
The servant returns with a tray of food and a jug of wine. He sets it down on the table, bows to Alexander, then hurries out again. Alexander gestures with his arm in a way that is probably meant to invite them to eat first. Tequila lounges on the offered cushions and pinches a little bit of the meat between his fingers. He looks so comfortable in this situation and Eggsy is amazed before he remembers that Tequila grew up as a cowboy. Eating food with his fingers in a tent is probably second nature.  
Eggsy joins him on the cushions and takes some of the meat as well. Alexander is the last to join them. He has no qualms about slotting himself close to Tequila.   
Once all the meat is gone and most of the wine has been drunk, Alexander bids them goodbye and instructs the servant to find a suitable accommodation for them both.  
“So how exactly are we supposed to stay close to him?” Eggsy asks as they follow the servant back across the darkened camp.  
“What d’ya mean?” Tequila asks  
“I mean if the other agent is hear to kill Alexander the Great we gotta stick to Alexander, yeah? How are we gonna do that? I mean you could just sleep with him.” Eggsy says  
“What?” Tequila asks, craning his neck around to look at Eggsy like he was insane.  
“Bruv. He was flirting with you for most of dinner.” Eggsy points out.  
Tequila waves him off, “He ain’t flirting. But that’s beside the point. The records are spotty because they’re, y’know ancient, but in a few days a Persian spy makes an assassination attempt. We protect him from that we get in as trusted advisors and guards.”  
“How sure is this?” Eggsy asks.  
“Only two sources confirm it.” Tequila admits.  
Eggsy groans and shakes his head, “Are you sure sleeping with him is off the table?”  
“Eggsy.” Tequila snaps.  
“Fine. Fine. There’s gotta be an easier way to do this though.” Eggsy complains  
Tequila smiles and tosses a warm arm over Eggsy’s shoulder, “History ain’t simple.”  
That shuts Eggsy up. Whether it was Tequila’s point about history, or the warm arm around his shoulder, Eggsy doesn’t want to think about too closely.  
*  
“We’ve been at this for days.” Eggsy says under his breath as he sharpens the short sword he was tasked with.  
Tequila looks up and shrugs, “I can’t predict everything.”  
“How do we know the persian spy you learned about weren’t actually the agent we’re supposed to stop?” Eggsy asks  
“Are you saying the agent failed somehow and the other agents have been erasing the footprint?” Tequila asks.  
Eggsy just gives him an exasperated look. Tequila sits back, momentarily lost in thought.  
“Alright. I got it. Alexander the Great was-- is superstitious as hell. He started this whole campaign because he witnessed an eagle land. We tell him you’re an oracle or that you got visions cause the Persians knocked you over the head, and we convince him that there’s gonna be an attempt on his life.”  
“Hang on. How come I’m the oracle?” Eggsy asks   
“You’re more believable. You got big eyes and you never had any of the pirating missions which means as far as sun goes you’re still pale. I’m a musclehead and have a tan from being outside so much.” Tequila insists  
“Jesus-- Ow!” Eggsy says, rubbing his shoulder where Tequila smacked him, “What was that for?”  
“Jesus hasn’t been invented yet.” Tequila reminds him.  
“Just take me to see Alexander.” Eggsy grumbles.  
They approach Alexander’s tent and one of the guards steps forward to stop them. Tequila quickly asuages the guards’ fears and assures them that he just has information about the Persians.  
Alexander hears this apparently because the flap of the tent is pushed open and Alexander stands there in all his glory.  
“What is this about more information about the Persians?” he asks  
“Forgive me your excellency. You see my friend has been gifted visions by the gods. He was struck in the head by a Persian warrior but rather than fell him, the gods gave him the gift. When they are feeling generous they allow him to see the future.” Tequila explains.  
Alexander glances Eggsy over. Then for the second time, he invited them both into his tent.  
“I was beginning to wonder whether my judgment to allow you to stay in my camp was clouded by a pretty face,” Alexander says to Tequila as they enter the dark and cool tent, “I see now that my judgment was sound. Please share what you know.”  
“A fucker from the future is gonna try to kill you.” Eggsy announces in English. Alexander glances to Tequila for translation.  
“He says he sees a man approaching your tent.” Tequila explains  
“Yeah. He’s probably gonna shoot you.” Eggsy says, not bothering to try to cloak it. Alexander can’t understand him anyway.  
“The man will be dressed in Persian garb but perhaps looks as though he is out of time. We believe this man will be coming to kill you. That is all that the god have seen fit to share.” Tequila finishes.  
Alexander nods seriously, “Then I suppose I will have to keep you two near me. Who best to ensure my safety than those who know what the man looks like. Though it is hardly a hardship to have such strong men near me.”  
Eggsy grits his teeth as Tequila smiles bashfully and accepts the compliment. The amount of sexual tension in the room is stifling. Eggsy is tired of it.  
*  
“Ready to go home?” Eggsy asks.  
“Fuck yeah. As cool as this was I’m fucking ready for showers and a shave.” Tequila agrees.  
They duck into the tent they were assigned and pull the rings out of their pouches. On the count of three they press down the center of the rings, sending the signal back to 2018.  
They wait for the gate to open. They wait for the gate to open. And wait. And.. wait…  
“Shit.” Eggsy curses.  
“We’re stuck ain’t we?” Tequila asks mildly.  
Eggsy shoots him a look.  
“You did say you’d kick my ass if we were stuck here.” Tequila offers.  
Eggsy shakes his head and sags onto the bedroll he was issued, “Don’t feel much like kicking your ass.”  
“That’s something at least.” Tequila says and sits down across from Eggsy.  
“Truth is… if I had to live to death in Ancient Greece you… would probably be the only person I’d want to do that with.” Eggsy admits reluctantly.  
“I’m sorry. I thought… Well I didn’t think we’d get stuck…” Tequila says.  
They sit in silence as the reality of their situation sinks in. They are stuck in Ancient Greece. They’re going to have to build entirely new lives. Eggsy will never see Daisy or his mum again. Not unless they can boost the signal. Which is impossible without--  
“Holy shit.” Eggsy says suddenly.  
“What?” Tequila says, sitting up.  
“I think I just figured it out.” Eggsy says.  
“Figured out what?” Tequila asks.  
“How to get home.” Eggsy answers.  
“That’s amazing! Holy shit how do we do it?”  
“I’m gonna need to invent silver foil 3,000 years early.”   
*  
Tequila steps through the flap to Alexander’s tent, charm set to maximum. With the emperor distracted, Eggsy slips in underneath the edge of the tent he loosened. He stays low and aims for the table. He slips the silver pitcher off the table, then the knife Alexander uses to eat. He slips back underneath and into the dark of the camp.  
So far so good. No one spotted what he was doing.  
He weaves his way through the tents. The forge is still radiating heat when Eggsy arrives. He blesses his luck that the forge is located far enough away from other tents so that no soldier is disturbed.  
It takes time to melt, cool, and hammer the pitcher thin enough. It takes almost an hour and a half. Finally Eggsy is able to tear off a piece of silver like tin foil. He has to send a thanks to all the obscure knowledge Merlin forced into his head during training.   
He emerges into the camp again. Then he books it for the tent he and Tequila share. Tequila is waiting for him. He’s already disassembled their rings, pin receivers, and earring translators with the think knife Eggsy left outside of Alexander’s tent.  
“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing.” Tequila says.  
“I’m boosting the signal. Silver is a conductor. I think if we use the transmitters from all this shit it might make a big enough spike to alert Merlin.” Eggsy says.  
“And how do you know how to do all this?” Tequila asks as Eggsy gets to work rewiring utilizing the silver foil.  
“I.. don’t?” Eggsy answers with a grimace.  
“What do you mean you don’t?” Tequila demands.  
“I mean I’m relying on Star Trek to be accurate. I think I saw it in one of them. As far as rewiring goes I’m pulling from when I boosted cars.” Eggsy explains.  
“God bless.” Tequila says and falls quiet as Eggsy works.  
“Try that.” Eggsy says and passes the mess of stripped wires and silver foil to Tequila.  
Tequila presses down on the button that was disguised in the ring. He gets a nasty electric shock for his troubles. He drops the contraption to the ground and shakes his hands out, cursing loudly.  
There’s no gate.  
The desperate hope they were clinging to slowly fades away. It leaves Eggsy cold and empty. He was so sure that it would work. They really are stuck.  
Suddenly a wind rips through the camps. It tears tents from their pegs. Shouts of fear go up around the camp.   
Eggsy and Tequila run outside. There’s a shining blue light coming from the center of camp.   
Hardly daring to breathe, Eggsy and Tequila run towards it. They shove their way through the crowds. A few soldiers throw their spears at the light.  
It’s a gate. They both pick up their speed and burst through into 2018.  
*  
“So. Merlin chew you out for wrecking his tech?” Tequila asks and sits down on the couch next to Eggsy.  
“Nah,” Eggsy answers, “He’s studying what the hell it means for physics. He did chew me out for this though.”   
He turns his laptop towards Tequila and hits play on a youtube video.  
“Is that an episode of Ancient Aliens?” Tequila asks  
“Yup. Guess they described our gate as flying shields.”


	11. 1918

Eggsy straightens his tie in the mirror. Once he deems it neat enough, he slams his locker shut and turns to look at Tequila. He's struggling to get the knot in his tie just right.   
Eggsy walks over and bats his hands away, “Didn't you have to learn to tie ties for missions?” he asks as he pulls the tangle apart.   
“Ginger always helped me. I always get it eventually but she gets impatient.” Tequila explains.   
Eggsy resettles the tie around Tequila’s neck, then starts retying it.   
“Harry taught me.” Eggsy says by way of explanation.   
He gets it tied, then tightens the knot, and straightens the tie. He smiles up at Tequila and pats him on shoulders once.   
“You're good.”  
Tequila turns to face the mirror, “Thanks. Coulda taken me a while,” he turns back to Eggsy, “We got a working theory for this trip?”  
“The armistice talks that ended World War One,” Eggsy answers, “That's why we got these dumb fucking waistcoats and hats.”  
“They ain't that dumb,” Tequila says, “At least we look good.”  
Eggsy’s thirst goes dry for a second but he swallows and shakes his head, “I can't move like I'm supposed to. You'd be surprised how easy it is to fight in Elizabethan clothes.”  
“Just means the enemy agent will be restricted too,” Tequila reminds him, “And I’d bet on you outmaneuvering them any day.”  
“Thanks.” Eggsy mumbles.   
They leaves the locker room and head for the gate.   
“So what's the purpose of going back to the armistice?” Tequila asks  
“I mean World War One was like the most pointless battle ever fought. 18 million people died. If the war lasted longer a shit ton more people could die--” Eggsy starts  
“And who knows what kind of effect that would have on the present.” Tequila finishes.  
Eggsy shrugs. That’s about the size of it.  
“We better get going then.” Tequila says and leads the way out of the locker room. Merlin is waiting for them at the gate .  
“Gentlemen,” he greets and passes them their assigned equipment, “Tequila I assume Eggsy debriefed ye while ye were dressing?”  
“Yes sir. I’m ready to go.” Tequila agrees.  
“Best be on your way then. Good luck.” Merlin says and heads to the computer. He enters the instructions into the command screen and the gate whirs to life. Eggsy and Tequila step up to the gate, and Tequila clasps Eggsy’s hand in his. After finding out that Percival and Bors were separated by several days last time they jumped, it’s become common practice for agents to hold onto their partner during a jump.  
The light swallows them up. Eggsy’s skin tingles in a familiar sensation, and his hand protests when Tequila grips a little harder. Eggsy grips back tightly as well. He doesn;t want to risk losing his historian.  
They emerge on the other side intact and together. Tequila drops Eggsy’s hand and Eggsy forces himself to let go as well. They look around, getting their bearings.   
“War office has to be around here somewhere,” Tequila remarks, “we should just ask someone.”  
“You speak French?” Eggsy asks  
Tequila shoots him a look that says ‘You must realize I don’t.’ Eggsy sighs and looks around for someone official looking. Which is a lot harder than it sounds. Everyone in 1918 Paris is wearing suits of excellent caliber.  
He approaches a tall man on a whim. He took a year of french when he was in school. The teacher had pronounced his accent so terrible as to be unintelligible. He hopes for the best.  
“Excuse me. Where is the building with the war?” he asks  
The man stares at Eggsy in confusion. Then he says what Eggsy thinks means “Come again?”  
“The war building.” Eggsy tries again  
“The war office?” The man asks  
“Yes!” Eggsy says relieved, “Where?”   
The man points back over his shoulder. Eggsy thanks him as best as he can. Then he heads in the direction the man pointed. Tequila follows close behind. Eggsy stops several times for directions, each time someone scoffs at his accent before sending him in the right direction.  
Finally he hears someone speaking english. There’s really only one reason why a british man would be here. They must have found the war office. Eggsy jogs up to him.  
“Excuse me, sir.” he says quickly, getting the man’s attention.  
“Can I help you?” the man asks  
“My name is Gary Unwin. I am supposed to be covering the proceedings of this treaty for a newspaper back home. I’m a little lost however, and my french is terrible.”  
“Right. Well I am just on my way in. If you follow me I should get you to the right place.” the man promises.  
“God bless you,” Eggsy says with as much passion as he can get, “My editor would have had my hide if I missed even a minute.”  
The man nods, and leads Eggsy into the building. Tequila is close on his heels. Always a presence at Eggsy’s back, keeping watch.  
They are waved through to the press section of seating by a harried secretary who speaks english about as well as Eggsy speaks french. Eggsy and Tequila take their seats as the last few politicians sweep inside.   
There is an exchange of pleasantries among the politicians that are there. Then they begin their discussion of terms. It is a little difficult to follow. Many of the politicians speak their native tongue and translators whisper quietly in ears.   
“What are they saying?” Tequila whispers, breath ghosting along Eggsy’s cheek and jaw.  
“I’m only getting the english. We know what’s happening though.” Eggsy whispers back.  
“Yeah. They’re gonna make Germany pay out the ass.” Tequila whispers  
“Exactly.” Eggsy agrees. He isn’t happy about it. It isn’t fair that the people of Germany are going to have to take the brunt of the reparations when their leaders were the ones who committed them to war in the first place. He grinds his teeth a little.  
The meeting is dismissed at the end of the day without much being sorted out. Everyone was too busy having a dick measuring contest to actually discuss terms. So far there is no sign of the enemy agent.  
Once they’re back on the street, Tequila turns to Eggsy, “So. Where do you think we should stay?”  
“Fuck. I didn’t even think about getting a hotel room,” Eggsy groans, “I don’t even know if we have enough to cover a room.”  
“Only one way to find out.” Tequila says.  
Eggsy sucks it up and asks after a hotel in his terrible french. It takes several tries before anyone will stop to talk to him. Eggsy is relieved when that person turns out to be British as well. The man gives them directions to a hotel where they don’t stick their noses up at English travelers.  
Eggsy negotiates, poorly, with the concierge. He gets them a room in the end. Eggsy takes the key and passes over the money. Then he and Tequila head upstairs. Eggsy unlocks the door to their room.   
They both collapse on the bed. Judging by the size of the room (small) and the single bed, Eggsy suspects he was taken for a ride by that concierge. He doesn’t care though. He’s had to share a bed with Tequila before and at least this one is comfortable unlike the lumpy straw mattress they found in 1866.  
“You alright?” Tequila asks suddenly and nudges Eggsy with his socked foot.  
Eggsy frowns, “Why wouldn’t I be?”  
“Dunno. You seemed pretty POed at the meeting. Could almost hear your teeth crack you were grinding ‘em so hard.” Tequila says.  
Eggsy shrugs.  
“Come on Eggsy. We had a promise.” Tequila wheedles.  
“Fine. It’s the reparations.” Eggsy admits.  
“What about ‘em?” Tequila asks.  
“They just… suck. I mean, you’re a historian. You have to know that people literally burned money because it was cheaper than buying wood.” Eggsy points out  
Tequila sits up so he can look down at Eggsy, “Yeah. Can’t lie that it was a bit fucked.”  
“Mate.” Eggsy says exasperated.  
“Alright. Really fucked up.” Tequila allows.  
“And it lead to the rise of the Nazi party. Fucking power vacuum and shit.” Eggsy adds.  
“I know. There ain’t nothing we can do about that though.” Tequila says matter of factly.  
“But we could,” Eggsy insists and lurches to sit up too, “I mean, we’re here. What if we… I don’t know… got one of the journalists to write a scathing article about it?”  
“Eggsy…” Tequila says softly  
“Look, I know we’re supposed to be preserving history not changing it. But ain’t it our responsibility to try to make history better.”  
“No.” Tequila says easily.  
“What do you mean?” Eggsy demands  
“You think I haven’t wanted to go back and change shit? That I haven’t wanted to stop the Lincoln assassination? Or go back and kill Reagan or Christopher Columbus?” Tequila asks, “But we can’t. We don’t know how that would change the future. What if we get the reparations lowered, but instead of stopping a power vacuum we just let the Nazi party have double their budget? We don’t get to play god.”  
“But--” Eggsy starts  
“No, Eggsy. I know it hurts but we can’t change our future.” Tequila says with finality.  
Eggsy scowls and kicks his shoes off.  
“You better not snore.” is all he says as he turns off the bedside lamp.  
“You know I don’t.” Tequila says and settles down next to Eggsy on the bed. Eggsy can feel the warmth of Tequila’s body heat radiating into his back.  
The meeting the next day goes off without a hitch too. Now that everyone has flashed their big guns, they are far more willing to negotiate. Although discussions are mostly focused on getting Germany to pay as much as possible. There is one ambassador who is very vocal about not punishing the people of Germany for the mistakes of it’s leaders. No one seems to listen, but Eggsy gets the feeling the voice of reason prevents the others from getting too outrageous in their demands.  
He spends another night in bed with Tequila. The man is a damn furnace. Even so, Eggsy has probably slept more soundly.  
The third day is just as dreary and monotonous as the ones before. However, there is a buzzing undercurrent of anxiety between him and Tequila. The longer they have to stay, the smaller their chances of finding the enemy agent become. History could be changing as they sit with their thumbs up their asses.   
The meeting ends without any interruption once again. Eggsy was sure that whoever it was would want to make a big show in order to reignite the war. They’re playing it safe however, and it makes Eggsy’s life that much harder.   
He and Tequila filter out onto the street once again. Eggsy is about to turn to head back to head to their hotel when Tequila catches his arm.  
“Ain’t that that ambassador from the meeting?” he asks softly.  
Eggsy looks where Tequila is squinting. Sure enough the ambassador is heading towards an alley, presumably for a shortcut, but… “Who’s that following him?” Eggsy asks.  
The ambassador is being tailed by a tall man with dark hair. The guy stands at least two inches above Tequila in height. Eggsy would have remembered him if he was in the meeting.  
“No one god.” Tequila answers.  
They slip after him, trying to walk lightly so that their footsteps on the concrete won’t attract the man’s attention. They follow the ambassador and his tail down a winding alley. Apparently the ambassador knows his way around Paris.  
As the ambassador rounds a corner into an alley where most of the doors leading into it have been boarded up or bricked over, the man following him raises a gun.  
“Watch out!” Eggsy calls, not a moment too soon. The ambassador dives out of the way just as the agent pulls the trigger.  
Eggsy and Tequila sprint after the man, narrowly avoiding the bullets when the agent shoots at them. With his clip emptied, he digs a knife out of his pocket and goes after Eggsy.  
Eggsy dodges the strike, narrowly avoiding a stab to the shoulder. He knocks the man’s arm aside hard, trying to loosen the agent’s grip on his knife. He ducks as the man aims a punch to his nose.   
Tequila jumps into the fray. With the ambassador delivered safely to the other end of the alley, he returned to help Eggsy.  
He gets a lucky punch to the enemy agent’s kidneys. He arches for a moment in pain, his knife still firmly in his grip. Eggsy makes another attempt to wrestle it away but to no avail.  
The agent takes another swing at him with the knife which he dodges but he’s so focused on not getting stabbed, he misses the man’s knee. It slams into Eggsy’s side hard, knocking the wind from his lungs. Eggsy chokes and staggers away, eventually tripping over his own feet and falling to the grimy alley floor.   
WIth one of the dispatched, albeit momentarily, the enemy agent moves on with Tequila in his sights. He takes another swing with the knife and Tequila dodges out of the way, but he’s slower than Eggsy. It becomes apparent he won’t be able to dodge and weave for long.  
Eggsy sucks in deep breaths, struggling back to his feet. He wishes he had a gun. Merlin has a rule against bringing modern weapons though. His side screams in protest as he searches desperately for a weapon.  
He scrabbles at a loose brick, and manages to pull it free from the wall. He staggers forward, intent on using it.   
Tequila lets out a cry of pain. Blood begins to seep from a nasty gash in his arm, staining his shirt red.  
Eggsy’s heart leaps into his throat. He can hear his pulse thundering in his ears. Anger propelling him forward, he slams the brick as hard as he can into the enemy agents head. There’s a sickening crunch as it connects, and the agent drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes.  
Eggsy drops the brick and stumbles to where Tequila is slumped on the ground clutching his arm. Eggsy falls to his knees.  
“Fuck. Tequila are you okay?’ he asks, out of breath from the fight.  
Tequila grits his teeth against the pain and shakes his head, “Get me home.”


	12. 2018

“How is he?” Eggsy asks a nurse outside medical.  
“His fever has gone down a little. Whatever it is that got into that cut must be burning off.” she assures Eggsy.  
“He gonna wake up soon?” he asks  
“We’ll see. I would have hope. He was in good health before this happened. He has every chance of coming through with just a little scar.” the nurse says  
Eggsy nods, trying not to get his hopes up too much, “Can I go see him?”  
“Did you shower?” the nurse asks.  
“What?”  
The nurse smiles kindly, “Merlin told us all that you’ve been down here nearly 24/7 since you brought Agent Tequila home. He told us you needed to shower before you were allowed back in.”  
“You can tell Merlin I showered.” Eggsy says.  
The nurse steps aside, letting Eggsy by. Eggsy takes the seat next to Tequila’s bed. It’s been almost three days since Eggsy brought them home. Medical had gotten their hand on Tequila right away but whatever germs were on the knife from 1918 were stubborn. Tequila was already suffering from an infection.  
He had spent the last three days on massive doses of antibiotics, asleep. Occasionally he would wake up, spout nonsense, and then fall asleep again.  
Eggsy’s stomach twists with guilt. If he hadn’t been so slow to get the brick he and Tequila would both be fine. Eggsy had a bruised rib or two from the enemy agent’s knee, but otherwise he was in perfect health. Tequila deserved to have a partner who had his back better than Eggsy had.   
Another nurse comes winging through the door a few minutes after Eggsy. She scribbles down Tequila’s vitals whatever infection Tequila got from that stabbing resulted in a massive fever. When Eggsy was here last it had only gone down to 37 degrees.   
He watches the nurse’s face, anxiety twisting in his gut. He's no doctor but he's fairly certain if Tequila’s temperature isn't back in normal range soon, he's going to suffer brain damage. The nurse scribbles the result on his chart and turns to walk away.   
“How is he?” Eggsy asks before she can get too far.   
“Much better. He’ll be out for a few more days but his temperature is close to normal. The infection should burn off within a day or so.” she assures him and heads out of medical.   
*  
When Eggsy next enters medical, Tequila is sitting upright in bed. He looks a little worn out by his recent bout of infection but he's smiling, and charming a nurse.   
“Thank god you're okay.” Eggsy says before he can stop himself.   
Tequila and the nurse both turn to look at him and Eggsy thinks, just maybe, Tequila’s smile gets a little more genuine.   
“Eggsy! Get your ass on in here.” he says loudly.   
Eggsy tries not to sprint to Tequila’s bedside. He takes up station to the right of Tequila’s bed, opposite the nurse.   
“The nurses been telling me how you spent almost every night here.” Tequila says.   
The nurse quietly announces that she's finished with Tequila for now and goes on her merry way, leaving them alone to talk.   
“Kinda had to. You're my partner,” Eggsy admits, “Plus it was my fault you got stabbed.”  
“How in the name of god was it your fault I got stabbed?” Tequila asks  
“I should've taken the fucker down before he was able to swing a knife.” Eggsy says   
“Listen you dummy. This is what partners do. We get stabbed and shot and fuck knows what else so that the other person can complete the mission.” Tequila says  
“Yeah but I--” Eggsy protests but Tequila cuts him off.   
“No buts. We got the guy didn't we?” he asks  
“Yeah.” Eggsy begrudgingly admits.   
“Then getting hurt made it worth it because it distracted the guy long enough for you to take him down.” Tequila insists   
Eggsy sighs, admitting defeat. He still feels guilty as shit about what happened, but that guilt doesn't help Tequila any.   
“Why're you so torn up about this anyway?” Tequila asks.   
And what a loaded question that is. There's the fact that this was the first time his partner on a mission got hurt. There's all the unspoken things between him and Tequila that’ve been brewing since Mexico.  
The door swings open behind him and Merlin steps into the room.   
“Tequila it's good to see ye alive and well,” he says then turns to Eggsy, “Harry’s sending you out. One of the other gates just opened.”  
“Are you shitting me?” Eggsy asks  
“No. I wish I was,” Merlin says and passes him a folder, “Details inside.”  
*  
Eggsy smiles as he enters the office. The young woman with coke-bottle glasses is nearly half hidden by the mounds and mounds of paper stacked up on her desk. She glances up from what she’s doing when she notices Eggsy’s presence.  
“Can I help you?” she asks, bewildered.  
“Hello Ms. Hamilton,” Eggsy starts, probably doing the worst impression of an american ever in the process, “My name is Burt Andrews, I work for the FBI.” He presents her with the badge Harry snatched a year or so ago.  
“How can I help you agent? Is something wrong?” Ms. Hamilton asks, shoving her glasses up her nose with her middle finger.  
“I’m afraid I have some rather startling news ma’m,” Eggsy answers, “We have reason to believe that there are operatives allied with Russia, planning to in some way sabotage the project you are working on.”  
That gets her out of her seat. She glances nervously at the mounds of papers, no doubt thinking about how easy it would be for the whole mission to fall apart were someone to so much as removes a single page of code. It would take weeks to replace.  
“What am I supposed to do?” she asks, getting right to the point.  
“Are all your other binders secure?” Eggsy asks.  
“Yes.” she answers quickly  
“Great. The next step would be to get these papers put in a binder as well, make it easy to grab if something goes wrong.” Eggsy responds. It may be a risk to organize everything into one easily grabbed binder when Chester and Valentine’s men could show up any second and steal it or set it on fire or something equally as catastrophic, but Eggsy needs to be able to grab it back from them without damaging the code.  
“Right. The books are kept down the hall,” Ms. Hamilton says and moves for the door, “I’ll go grab one.”  
She disappears for a few moments then returns with an empty shell for the pages she has written.  
“Are you sure this is the best idea?” she asks as Eggsy passes her stacks of paper and she slides them into place.  
“If an attempt is made to steal these, then we’re more likely to keep them intact in a binder than just floating everywhere.” Eggsy reasons.  
She nods in absent agreement and continues sliding the pages into place. The room is silent except for the soft mutterings to herself as she makes sure everything is in the correct order. She slides the most recently completed page into the binder, and stands next to it uncertainly.  
“Now what?” she asks  
“Now we walk down the hall together to secure this with the other binders.” Eggsy announces and opens the door to the office. He glances up and down the hall. No one. It’s clear.   
He opens the door the rest of the way and ushers her out in front of him. Her spindly arms are wrapped tight around the heavy binder as she leads the way to where the binders are secured.  
They round the corner and an older janitor smiles politely as they pass. Out of the corner of his eye, Eggsy can see the janitor pause in his mopping and bend into his cart to get something. As the man shifts back to standing, Eggsy can see what he was grabbing.  
“Get down!” he yells, wrapping his body around Ms. Hamilton’s as the first gunshot goes off. Ms. Hamilton screams in terror, and Eggsy curses Merlin for not letting him bring a gun. These damn facilities are too secure for even FBI to carry weapons apparently. Eggsy can’t return fire.  
The janitor shoots another round, advancing on them. Eggsy fumbles with the button of his jacket and drapes one of the panels across Ms. Hamilton as best he can. He urges her to her feet as the agent takes another shot at them, and Eggsy makes a mad dash for the supply closet a few feet away. He yanks the door open, shoves Ms. Hamilton inside, then throws himself in after her. A shot punctures the door, and another. This solution won’t hold for long.  
Merlin is going to kill him.  
Eggsy presses down hard on the center of his ring. The blue shimmer whirrs to life just outside the closet door. He yanks his jacket off, and drapes it over Ms. Hamilton. He slams the door open, and sends them both tumbling through the gate.  
*  
“That better not be who I think it is.” Tequila says as he wanders over to join Eggsy in the next medical sweet over.  
“I--” Eggsy starts  
“No,” Tequila says and turns to Eggsy, “Did you really just bring Margaret Hamilton, the leader of the Engineering Division of MIT’s Instrumentation Lab to 2018?”  
Eggsy grimaces, “I know it was a shit idea, but we were being shot at and I didn’t have a gun. I improvised.”  
“You can’t just improvise with the woman responsible for the software that sends man to the moon!” Tequila nearly shouts.  
“I know mate, but I couldn’t let her be shot either,” Eggsy reasons, “Besides we all still know who she is. If bringing her here affected the timeline, we would have no idea who she was.”  
“Fine. But what are we gonna tell her when she wakes from the fear induced fainting spell?” Tequila asks  
“She slipped as we were escaping the bloke trying to shoot her, so we took her to a hospital. Merlin was able to scrounge up old medical tech from the sixties and seventies in the storage locker at the back of the property. She won’t know that she’s here in 2018.” Eggsy answers.  
“This was a huge risk.” Tequila grumbles.  
Eggsy pats him on the shoulder, “Lamorak is in ‘69 now tracking the agents down. As soon as he gets back, so will margaret. It’ll be fine.”  
*  
Alarms blare throughout the kingsman property, nearly deafening in the wood lined halls of the estate. Agents pour out of their offices, trying to find the intruder.  
Eggsy skids to a stop next to Merlin in the hallway.  
“What happened?” he asks breathlessly.  
Merlin gives him a glare hot enough to melt glass, “It seems Margaret Hamilton didn’t fall for our ruse. She made a break for it.”  
Eggsy’s heart does somersaults in his chest. He clings desperately to the idea that so far they all still know who she is, meaning she returns home safely.  
“Any idea where she could have gone?”  
“Security cameras tracked her until she exited the front entrance. Seems like she hitched a ride with someone at the main road.” one of Merlin’s minions pipes up from amidst the crowd.  
“Who the fuck did she catch a ride with. I thought that road was just for show!” Eggsy yells  
“The occasional lorry uses it as a shortcut.” the minion responds.  
“Fuck. So she just took off with a lorry driver?”  
“Seems so.”  
Tequila shoves his way through the crowd to get next to Eggsy.  
“What’s going on?” he shouts over the alarms and cacophony of voices.  
“Margaret Hamilton took off!” Eggsy shouts back.  
“Son of a bitch! I told you something like this would happen.” Tequila says  
“Look. Yell at me later,” Eggsy says then shouts as loud as he possibly can, “Did anyone get a plate number on the lorry?!”  
“Caught the last few digits!” someone calls back.  
“Great give those to Merlin! He should be able to come up with a matching lorry,” Eggsy instructs and turns to Merlin, “I’m going to go after them. The road only goes one way for a while, maybe I can catch up, but if you can find the lorry first then call me.”  
“I’m going with you.” Tequila announces and starts after Eggsy.  
“But your arm.” Eggsy protests  
“If you think I’m gonna leave my partner scrambling cause my arm is a little sore, then you’re an idiot.” Tequila says.  
With no time to argue, Eggsy just nods and lets Tequila follow him to the garage. They’re on the road almost five minutes later. Merlin’s voice is loud over the car’s speakers as he keeps them updated in his search for this one lorry.  
There’s palpable relief when Merlin picks it up on a store’s security camera when making a delivery. Eggsy presses hard on the gas pedal, desperate to catch the driver before his next stop.  
He obey’s merlin’s voice at every turn in the road. He trusts the man to get him there in time. He screeches to a stop behind the lorry just as the driver emerges from the loading dock, checking something off on his clipboard.  
“Oi! Bruv!” Eggsy shouts as he almost falls out of the car in his haste.  
The driver looks up from his clipboard, immediately suspicious as Eggsy and Tequila come jogging up to him.  
“We’re looking for my sister,” Tequila says desperately, “Have you seen her?”  
“You got a picture?” the man asks  
Tequila holds his phone out, showing Margaret Hamilton next to her binders of code.  
“How do I know you’re actually her brother and not some crazy stalker?” the driver asks.  
Of all the times for a man to be chivalrous.  
“She’s got a mental illness that makes her paranoid,” Eggsy lies and begins fabricating the story off the top of his head in an attempt to rationalize everything she might have told the driver, “Normally she’s fine but she forgot to refill her prescription so we went to see her doctor at the ward out in the country today since he volunteers his time there, but she got freaked out and accused him,” here he points to Tequila, “of kidnapping her to try to check her in against her will then ran out. Someone said they saw her leave in a lorry and gave us your plate number.”  
Whether or not that’s how paranoia works, and Eggsy has a feeling it isn’t, the driver looks almost convinced, “Oh yeah? What medication is she on?”  
“Risperidone.” Tequila answers quickly.  
“And what’re two Americans doing with a kid from London?” the diver asks  
“They moved here a few years back. The three of us were supposed to to go to a movie after we ran this errand but I guess the paranoia was enough to really mess her up.” Eggsy answers  
The driver nods, apparently convinced, “I dropped her off near the police station a few blocks back. I don’t know if she went inside, she was muttering about the FBI being after her.”  
“Thank you.” Eggsy responds and he and Tequila pile into the car. Eggsy drives at breakneck speed back the way they came. He knows exactly where the police station is that the driver mentioned.  
They’re forced to come to a screeching halt once again. Eggsy sees now why the lorry driver dropped her near the station instead of in front of it. Several blocks are closed down in favor of the London Vintage Festival.   
“Fuck,” Eggsy curses loudly, “Merlin you’re not gonna believe this. We lost her in the vintage festival.”  
“Are ye fucking kidding me? How are ye supposed to find a woman in a dress from 1969 in a swarm of people also wearing vintage clothes?” Merlin asks.  
“I told you we were fucked, you don’t gotta pile on.” Eggsy says indignantly.  
“Wait, Merlin,” Tequila says, eyes darting back and forth across the banner as he gathers his idea, “Run facial recognition through the instagram hashtag for the festival. Chances are she’s going to show up in the background, or have pictures taken of her since her clothes are so period accurate.”  
There’s some typing on Merlin’s end of the phone and impatient grumbling. They suffer in agonizing silence for several long minutes as Merlin waits for the computer to work its magic.  
“Last spotted at a vintage-silver stand.” merlin announces finally.  
Eggsy and Tequila clamber out of the car, already running into the fray.   
“If you find her, try to get my attention by yelling or something.” Tequila calls out.  
“Wait!” Eggsy calls after him  
“What?”  
“We have cell phones,” Eggsy points out, “I can just call you! We forget that this mission is now.”  
They take off in opposite directions, winding their way through aisles and aisles of stalls. Everyone is dressed so similarly to Margaret Hamilton, Eggsy is half convinced that his eyes will glance right over her without realizing. He starts ignoring the clothes, instead searching for her coke bottle glasses. He hasn’t seen anyone wear those since he was a kid and parents were convinced they were still in fashion.  
He reaches a vintage-silver stand and something catches his eye. He turns to face whatever it was, and realizes there is another man winding his way through the stalls. It isn’t Tequila though.  
Eggsy follows the man’s gaze and finds Margaret Hamilton. He runs toward her and for the second time in just a few hours, Eggsy sees a gun being drawn on her. There’s no time to warn her, or tackle the man. So he does the one thing he can think of, he launches himself off the nearest table and goes sailing through the air.  
The gun discharges and Eggsy can feel the bullets smack into his jacket. It leaves him winded, and with the knowledge he’s going bruise like crazy.  
The crowd around him screams and he just narrowly avoids being trampled in their panic. He lurches to his feet, but Tequila is already there. He knocks the other agent over the head with the butt of his gun and the man goes down, crashing to the floor.  
Tequila slides to his knees next to Eggsy, eyes crinkled with worry.  
“You okay?”  
“Fine,” Eggsy says hoarsely, “Where’s Margaret?”  
*  
“So… I am almost fifty years in the future?” Margaret asks as Merlin prepares the gate.  
“Yup,” Eggsy answers, “And a lot of what it’s like is thanks to you.”  
Margaret smiles and shakes her head a little, “I’m just writing code.”  
“Yeah. But this code is especially important. Your code is going to revolutionize space travel. Man walks on the moon because of your code. And all the probes we have out there flying around, is because you paved the way for new technological innovations.”  
The gate whirs to life behind her, and Margaret startles a little.  
“Marie Curie may have discovered the rip and founded Kingsman to study it, but you, you were the one to give us code to use it.” Eggsy tells her.  
“Thank you,” she says with a bright smile, “For showing me all this. You don’t know what it means to know your work will live on and be worth something.”  
“Go on. You better get back. Still have some code to write.” Eggsy encourages and watches as Margaret Hamilton steps back into 1969.  
Tequila catches up with him in the hallway as Eggsy heads back to his office. After the day he’s had, he just wants to collapse on the sofa inside. Tequila follows him, silent in thought.  
Eggsy flops face down on his office sofa and lets out a tired groan. Tequila settles on the edge of it, next to Eggsy’s chest.  
“I’ve been thinking…” he starts and Eggsy scrunches his nose and sits up. Apparently there will be no rest for him right now.  
“I mean… after Mexico, and the old west, and nearly being stuck in ancient greece, and us getting stabbed and shot at…” Tequila trails off, trying to put his thoughts into words.  
“What are you trying to say bruv?” Eggsy asks  
“Well with all the life and death shit we put up with, it seems stupid to deny yourself something because of the possible crappy end result. Right?”  
“I… guess?” Eggsy answers hesitantly and sits up.  
Tequila turns to look at him with so much intensity in his gaze, that air catches in Eggsy’s throat.  
“I think we should pick up what we started in mexico.”   
“Oh…” Eggsy says, trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart, “I.. yeah. I mean…. Yeah I wanna do that.”  
Tequila cups Eggsy’s jaw in one big hand, and leans in. He presses his lips to Eggsy’s in a perfect soft kiss. It’s just as good as it was in Mexico.


End file.
